My creative juices have been a little dry lately, so I stopped in at the grocery store to pick up some new material for the blog post. Besides, I was out of coffee cream.
I think of grocery stores as a gold mine of material and it did not disappoint!
I got a few items and pushed my cart into the shortest line at Register 6. There was just one man ahead of me with a cart filled with flavored seltzer. He had about a dozen shrink-wrapped packages with 12 bottles in each package, so he put just one package on the belt for the cashier and left the rest in the cart. Since he hadn’t moved up, I was quite a distance from the cashier when I put the divider on the belt to mark the end or my groceries. I started unloading the cart but the cashier never turned off the conveyor belt so the area for my groceries kept shrinking.
I started to move the divider further back but the woman behind me was already piling her items on the belt. This was a woman in a hurry. She had on her Yoga outfit. She had to keep in motion! Tofu to buy! She could not be bothered with a woman buying marrow bones and (gasp!) bacon. (In my defense, I had salad greens, too. You just couldn’t see them because the rest of the groceries were stacked on top of them due to the lack of space.)
Yoga Woman just kept piling up her wholesome, whole-grain, organic groceries — higher and higher. I still had items in my cart. The man with the seltzer bottles hadn’t paid for them yet, but because there was nothing on the conveyor belt, it kept right on conveying and my available space kept shrinking. If you ever watched the classic I Love Lucy episode with Lucy and Ethel in the candy factory, you have some idea of the situation.
When the cashier finally began scanning my items, Yoga Woman squeezed behind me and took a pen from the cash register behind us so that she could start writing her check. A body in motion stays in motion, all right.
I grabbed the groceries with one hand and took the receipt from the cashier with the other. But there was another hand in the picture: this one, unlike mine, was perfectly manicured and it was pushing quinoa and millet up to the cashier. It belonged, of course, to Yoga Woman.
I finally stopped and looked at her. “I hope I’m not in your way,” I said.
She didn’t hear me because she was on her phone.
I took my groceries out to the car, satisfied that I had something to write about.
Unfortunately, I forgot the coffee cream.