You’re nobody, unless you have one…

My wife and I have been ordering food items online from Wal-Mart since the pandemic. We pick up what we’ve ordered at a special drive-up section at the side of our nearby store, avoiding mingling with lots of people and dodging those expensive impulse buys that double your shopping bill.

The pick-up routine requires you to phone the store at a special number once you’ve arrived so the staff can come outside and load your items into the trunk or back of your vehicle.

This morning, we forgot to bring our phones when we went to pick up our items. I mean really, do you even have an identity if you don’t have your phone with you at all times these days? How could you live without Apple Pay, driving directions, constant access to texting and phone calls, constant access to news media and Twitter, etc?

So not having our phones, I tried the only thing I could remember to alert someone inside a building of my presence. I knocked on the door. What a concept.

After a few seconds, the door opened and I saw four stunned-looking people staring at me, probably wondering if they had opened the door to a mass murderer.

“I forgot my phone,” I said, looking embarrassed.

“No one’s ever knocked on our door to get their groceries,” one nice young woman said, making me feel especially stupid.

Assured that we were not mass murderers, the staff loaded our groceries in the car, then went back in the store probably to begin telling stories about what a bunch of dolts we were.

Meanwhile, outside and parked in the next space, was a woman at least 15 years older than us, sitting in a clapped out 84 Buick with fading paint, duct-taped bumpers and a barrage of dents. While she was sucking on a cigarette, I could see through the cloud of smoke that she indeed had her cell phone with her and was summoning the Wal-Mart crew to bring her order.

Before we could escape the parking space, the crew had brought out her order, giving us a glancing “you guys are really dumb” kind of look.

We’re probably going to have to start wearing clothes with a scarlet letter “A” on our chests to warn others that we are indeed “Addled.”