Were her fingers faster than any others? I think so. She looked up and over, around and down her glasses as she pushed the keys down. The old, non-computerized keys, the ones you had to arch your fingers, bend your knuckles to shove down. She was a million years old and she could do it better than seven year old me. She even got me a footstool and let me ring up a six pack of Tab for my mom. I was baby, slow, little kid slow. The keys had a good, solid click as they went down and then snapped back up. A dollar fifty for Tab. Mom would give me two dollars, and expect change back, and would count the change from hand to hand before stuffing it into her big black purse. I wasn't much for counting, but my clerk friend helped me with the change, then I was on my way back.