Tom, the Schnucks guy

I recently had the embarrassing experience of going through the checkout at the Schnucks on Forum Boulevard and suddenly realizing I had forgotten to bring my wallet.

“No problem,” said the checker, Tom Oliski, reaching for his wallet. “I’ll front you the money and save you a trip home and back.”

“No,” I said, gesturing toward my grocery bags. “I’ll take them over to the service desk and go get the wallet.”

“Okay,” he said. “Say hi to your wife, Jan.”

Surprised? Not if you know Oliski, the best- known, best-liked, busiest checker in the town’s grocery business. He’s a supermarket superstar.
Tom is 53 and stands about 5 feet 6 inches tall. His nickname, Bowser, is tattooed on his right arm. It began when, as a child, he mistakenly ate his dog’s scrap meat from a “bowser bag.”

Oliski had formal training as an actor but didn’t make it a profession, and he failed baseball umpire school because he was too short. So Oliski makes a performance out of his job. His checkout aisle is his stage. Customers actually shun shorter lines, standing four and five deep, just to interact while paying for their milk and eggs.

Oliski lives with his wife, Francesca, and two children on a 15-acre farm outside of Ashland. He moved to Ashland from California to get away from the fast-paced life style. He got to California hitchhiking from St. Louis at age 28 and stayed there for two decades before returning to Missouri.

He returned from a break in the grocery business after a short time as a higher paid radiology technician because in that job he could not emotionally handle seeing sick children.

He’s been a checker for 19 years, the age of many of the other people he works with.

“I tell these young college kids here to learn from Tom and be more like him,” said Bill Crisco, the Schnucks manager. “He’s a person without walls.”

Oliski knows his customers with an almost encyclopedic memory. He can remind them when they have forgotten an item. He knows family members’ names, when the grandkids are coming, and asks customers question such as, “How’s your lumbago?”

One couple told him they would not shop on his days off. More than 100 customers visited him in the hospital when he had both knees replaced, the seventh knee operation that’s resulted from his soccer days. He had to keep a list and thank everyone who visited. His other passion is baseball, and he once had a part-time job as a baseball scout.

Customers actually bring in out-of-town relatives to introduce them to “their friendly checker, Tom.” Others often refer to him simply as the Schnucks Guy.

From casual conversations, friendships are formed. One customer gave him a five-gallon bucket of old golf balls for his son to learn the game. Another customer offered a lake place for a family getaway.

He gives away his secret: He learns customers’ names from checks and credit cards.

“I always call customers Mr. or Mrs. until they ask me to call them by their first name. It usually takes five visits,” he said.

If a Mr. and Mrs. Smith shop together, and then one day Mr. Smith is not there, Tom asks how he is doing. The wife will give him an opening, saying something like her husband has a bad back.

This goes into a memory bank, and the next time in Tom’s aisle, Mr. Smith, gets asked how the back is coming along. You’re not lifting anything heavy, are you?

He gives kids stickers, a way to help parents say no to the candy at the checkout counter. It diverts kids’ attention, and parents thank him.
I asked him if he is always so happy. His reply was that he would not allow myself to be in a bad mood and share that with anyone.

“It is not an act; it’s a personal touch that needs to be taken for each customer,” he told me. “Groceries cost enough, and I am there to give a service. People say whenever they come to the store, ‘you always make me feel better.’ That makes my day.”

That’s why customers sometimes stand four-deep when other aisles are less crowded.