You can become a celebrity living on an island if you order the proper cut of beef. Asking nicely, The butcher will ask for your autograph after requesting a marbled steak. As long as you are warm and appreciate their process, which I do, the butcher is square with the customer.
You don’t complain, ever!, to the produce manager. They carry sharper knives than the butcher and are far more flammable. You politely ask which tomato or watermelon is best currently. They don’t ask for an autograph. They genuflect.
While approaching the cashier, when they are trying to scan your honey crisp apples, and I inform them what the item is, (because they don’t know the demonic code) they collapse and say thank you. Some of them cry as if Elvis or the Beatles were walking in their lane.
Going to the store is therapeutic for me.
Some people on the island aren’t so understanding.
“Give me my discount on the day old chicken strips or I will burn this place down.”