Six years ago, she spent three months in Bellevue Hospital because of a psychotic break, and at first didn’t want to take medication or attend treatment sessions, worried that the people around her had weapons. Despite that initial resistance, she has faithfully taken the drugs that control her delusions and has not returned to the hospital since. Her exchanges with the pharmacy staff served as informal check-ins that gave her a little extra help adhering to an unfamiliar medication regimen.

Services like Walgreens’ express pharmacy kiosks, which allow customers to reduce the interaction required to refill a prescription in person, mean encounters like these may already be dwindling.

Fleeting retail interactions can also help people during major life transitions. I learned this when I ended a 13-year relationship and moved to San Francisco, a city where I knew almost no one. I worked from home and could have gone days without speaking to another human being. But I discovered how quickly I could become a regular at the coffee shops, eateries and bars I frequented. Service workers often filled in important connective social tissue before I worked up enough nerve to chat with other customers. A few friendly words with the servers and bartenders made me feel less alone. Eventually some became friends.

At the same time, San Francisco was a pioneer in automation. At Eatsa, a quinoa bowl joint, you don’t have to interact with any other humans. You just order on your phone, and a “personalized cubby” spits out your food. Robots make coffee at Cafe X, and self-driving food delivery robots roam the streets of the Mission District.

We seem to have fewer and fewer opportunities to interact with people, especially those outside of our usual social circles, of different races, classes or nationalities. In our polarized political climate, we cannot afford to squander them. That’s one reason I choose to ride the bus to work as a college professor, side-by-side with Walmart employees and other retail workers at the mall where the bus route terminates. Most people who can afford a car would rather drive to the mall, reducing the chances of serendipitous conversation with strangers. Will they soon be able to avoid them in the mall, too?

What’s good for business is not always good for people. We need to consider the trade-offs of increasing automation and use our dollars to push for the kind of shopping experience we want and the kind of communities we want to live in. Next time you’re at the store and have the opportunity to bypass the register, spare a few moments to chat with the cashier instead. You can always shop on Amazon at home.