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Monday, January 30, 2012

Check-Out Line

She was buying lentil soup, an eggplant, and five organic tomatoes on the vine.

I was wearing fashion boots and grey leggings that double up as jammie bottoms on cold winter nights.

Her hair was cute, and short- dyed a funky, unnatural colour that made her look fun-loving without appearing desperate. Her clothes were understated, but artistic.

I'd been too tired to shower in the morning.

She studied the sodium content in her canned lentils while she waited patiently behind me.

I had to apologize for holding up the line. My yellow brand taco chips, bulk discounted oranges, and four boxes of feminine hygiene products had clogged up both conveyer belts.

She didn't need a cart.

My boots clicked busily and the knees of my jammie tights began elephanting around my knees as I hustled the tuna, flats of tomato soup, multiple loaves of bread, and XL bag of pretzels back into place.

I wondered......
~how long the 16 litres of milk would last.
~Whether mac and cheese would eventually be outlawed.
~if it were possible to put both bunches of bananas on the table without turning my day kids into ravenous monkeys.
~whether $298.00 in groceries would mean that there was anything to eat for lunch the next day?

While she fingered her
eggplant
vine-ripened tomatoes
and lentils.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Maybe she is jealous of your obvious family and social life to require you to purchase a full cart while she has only herself in the world to contemplate if she really really likes eggplant of if she is just eating it because her mom always told her it was good for her. Just throwing out a different perspective. I really have no right to, but I thought I would anyway...and maybe she was too shy to ask you where you got the boots; she might have always wanted a pair. Maybe she has a blog about that fabulous woman who was in front of her at the grocery store. Maybe.
VB

Rosa said...

she went home to an empty house full of enviro friendly furniture. A cat or two to great her but she refused to put up with that guy that liked xbox so the the house was empty void of daughters to show off there new nail polish and sons to star as the grinch.

joyce said...

she went home to her studio apartment and cooked an eggplant lasagna with fresh tomato. She poured herself a glass of wine, and looked forward to a tastey dinner with a dashing man she met at Stella's when she was buying her morning biscotti.

They drank the whole bottle, and four years later moved into a bungalo with a large lot. Their children raised feral guinea pigs.

They couldn't have been any happier.

mmichele said...

Now remember, she was buying lentil soup. That means she couldn't cook it herself.

Rosa said...

Oh I just hope she doesn't start eating the guinea pigs with her egg plant . Who know could keep the grocery bill down allowing more cash for new video games.

Anonymous said...

Oh my goodness...my word verification is "toxic" no word of a lie. This type of thinking is toxic. Well, not the speculating part--that's fun. The feeling that others can make one feel inferior--now that's toxic.
VB

joyce said...

Toxic truth. Funny thing-I think the whole checkout experience might have had elements of toxicity within it, but it was primarily an exercise in perspective- the curious activity of what we infer about others based on precious little information. The blog post sentences were already forming in my brain while I was observing my own thought processes in the check out line. And I was smiling internally, not hating myself, or wishing I was more like lentil girl. Lentil girl to me represented a certain timeframe of life- a snapshot, so to speak. I had my own version of "lentil time" at another time in my life. I don't ache to be there again, just find it fascinating how we all progress through life's changes and stages- often without the perception of the wonder within it at the time. I actually love buying copious amounts of groceries and watching them vaporize in a nano second. It means that our lives are full, that much life occurs under our room, that our table is always surrounded by people who are safe and loved within our home. I think about my mother who used to cook for her eight children who now has dad and her to feed. That will be a. Sweet timer to, just as right now is sweet, and messy, and complicated. Lentil girl might be in the midst of leaving her husband and children. She might be in the grips of serious depression. She might be just plain bitchy and no fun to be around. It's funny to just make up a story, standing in the checkout line in Jammie tights.....

Anonymous said...

Awesome! You should have just started talking to her. I love doing that and embarrassing my daughter...what do I have to lose! I am just an older woman and will never see that person again. It is funny, once you reach a certain threshold - what you can actually get away with....LOL (daughter would appreciate it if it wasn't with her though....what a party pooper!) - MK

jenn said...

Ahhh...give her 10 years.