Igenerally don’t frequent local stores. The reason is actually quite simple.

I have this aversion to talking about shalom bayis while the woman speaking to me is slurping a Slurpee. I also don’t feel comfortable discussing your child while attempting to distinguish between a yam and a sweet potato (and no they are not “two peas in the same pod”).

Recently I decided to shop where I assumed I might meet a few local congregants — the largest home improvement retailer in the United States: The Home Depot.

I wasn’t in the store for more than five minutes when one bearded coreligionist approached me with the (sometimes dreaded) greeting “Oh Rabbi it’s so bashert I ran into you. I was just thinking about calling you.”

After I excused myself I moved on. I needed to purchase a piece of wood and figured even an all-thumbs person such as myself could manage such a task.

The man from lumber cut my wood and I headed to checkout.

The woman at the register asked a question about the wood and from my blank stare quickly realized she was dealing with a “Home-Depot-Challenged Person.”

She left the register and trekked back to the lumber section.

After what seemed like an eternity she returned.

She pressed some buttons I paid $14.87 and prepared to leave.

Before I left I turned to the people in line behind me and apprehensively said to them “Please forgive me for holding you up for so long; I know your time is precious.”

A middle-aged man in a flannel shirt with a long ponytail and very large biceps said “That’s fine. We’re all in such a rush these days. Thank you for allowing all of us to slow down.”

I looked at him in disbelief and left.

As I was entering my car I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped; it was the large man with the ponytail.

“Excuse me I didn’t mean to scare you but you’re Jewish aren’t you?”

“Yes I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this inside the store but the real reason I wasn’t upset with you taking so long to check out was actually because of something else entirely.

“I grew up in Vineland New Jersey. My father raised chickens and sold his eggs to a local Jewish grocery. My father would deliver the eggs every morning at five as the grocer Greenstein needed them when the grocery opened at six.

“Well one day my father’s truck broke down and he had no choice but to wait till the truck was fixed. He then headed on to Greensteins’ Grocery. My father got there at about seven thirty and the store was already open. My father was sure Mr. Greenstein had bought that day’s eggs from a competitor as competition then was really fierce.

My father walks in with his eggs and says “I’m sorry I’m late Mr. Greenstein can I still sell you some eggs today?”

Mr. Greenstein looked at my father and said “You are an honest person and I refused to buy from anyone else. I waited for you. So everyone slowed down their breakfast a little bit today well we all need to slow down.”

My father never forgot that kindness and when I saw you in line in front of me today I realized I could finally pay back in a little way what Mr. Greenstein did for my father 60 years ago. That’s the real reason I didn’t mind waiting. If Mr. Greenstein could wait more than two hours for my father I could wait ten minutes for you.”

I thanked my newfound friend and wondered if I should start shopping here more often.