Zephediah Justice

The fact of her existence meant to me that customer service as a whole was not taken out back and shot.

"Hi! How are you ladies today?" she chimed, looking us both in the eyes and smiling. "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

We'd just overheard her chatting with the guy ahead of us. She'd volunteered to work this weekend because they needed help. She usually worked at Starbuck's. They told her it would be crazy on Halloween, but how bad could it really be? It's been great so far. So many nice people.

This was Target, for the love of god. Who was this girl?

"We did thanks," I shined back at her. "Are you having a good day?"

"So good. Thank you."

She happily dragged my selection from the conveyor over the scanner: a bag of Life Savers Pep-O-Mints mints; jungle animal burp cloths; newborn diapers with baby Sesame Street muppets on the bum; the biggest, wingiest maxi pads I could find (I don't know what they're really like, but the "technical" diagram on the box looks like an Imperial Starfleet Destroyer); and a three-pack of panties that could easily have been used as sails in a nautical pinch.

She looked up and completed a mental match of my items to my belly, belly, belly.

"Oh! You're getting ready for baby! When are you due?"

"January first."

"And it's a girl?"

"It is a girl, yeah."

"Do you have any names picked out?"

I always wonder why people ask this. It's such a trick question, really. Most people will tell you never to answer because people can't help but react and negative reactions pretty much suck. She was so sweet, though, so friendly and unusually bright, that I didn't mind her inquisitiveness.

"So far, it's Sprout."

Without hesitation she beamed and said: "That's very unique. I'm sure that she will be a good Sprout. You know, we just had a girl that went into labor at work yesterday. It was very exciting. I've never been around a girl in labor before. I don't know what she named her baby, but I have another friend who named her baby Zephediah. Zephediah Justice. That's a unique name too."

I laughed. "No, I'm sorry. We're not really naming our baby Sprout. That's just her nickname, what we're calling her before she's born."

The woman behind is line interrupted: "Oh, thank god!"

I glanced her way. "No we're just not sure on the name yet."

"Oh," said the checkout girl, "you never know, you know? And who am I to judge?"

"You're right," I smiled, "I guess there are some interesting names out there."

"Zephediah Justice," she continued, "I mean, that kid is going to be famous or something. Stuff is going to go down that guy's life, you know?"

I knew exactly what she meant. Zephediah Justice would be a Heisman-winning, pro football player. Or an evangelical preacher with a huge following in the South. Or a magician. That name just portends bigness.

Sprout, I thought. Hmm. It's time to start thinking bigger. A lot bigger.