My name is Jenny (see??). My son has a part-time job at the grocery store in our city. He works there after school and on weekends. He's saving up for a car. Or Chipotle (hey, our accounts are linked... I see where the money goes!). Most of his shifts are spent ringing up customers. Sometimes he does the bagging, sometimes he's the kid out in the parking lot gathering carts.
Last night, however, he was cashiering. You went through his line with your husband. Apparently the chitchat was pleasant... since it was nearing the end of my son's shift, he probably appreciated the back-and-forth with nice people such as yourselves. Ending the night on a good note and all that jazz.
When the goods were bagged up and your credit card slip signed, you could have gone on your merry way and let my son finish his shift and get on with his Saturday night. He's 16, and Saturday nights are like unwritten books just waiting for their stories.
But you didn't, did you?