Aside from being anxious and stressed, I look a mess. My straightened hair has gone frizzy from the heat, and is falling out of it's elastic. I'm sporting a black tank top layered with a plaid button up shirt - unbuttoned. The waist down isn't any better; Chaco's and gaucho's.
I step into Safeway very apprehensively as I'm expecting this to be an expensive shopping trip. I lean over my cart looking at the pancake mixes, completely intimidated.
From behind me I hear a man ask "How are you doing? Just grabbing some groceries?"I respond in a shaky but cheery voice. "Good thanks."
As the man comes around I notice a lack of a uniform...
The man is probably in his 30s and is dressed professional, but casual.
He carries on in chit chat while I answer his questions and check out the baking powder from the corner of my eye.
He asks questions like "Are you from around here?" "Born and raised?"
I start getting uncomfortable and give shorter answers.
"I don't know if I'll ever see you again. Can we exchange numbers? You'll call me?"I don't give him my number but I put his business card in my purse, and the organic pancake mix in my cart.
I take a deep breath and continue on to the pharmacy. A group of teens that passed me earlier come down the isle. The fat one looks me up and down and says "You have a FANTASTIC rack!"
I wheel my cart to the next isle but there's a gap a quarter of the way through and he looks at me again. "Heeeey"
At this point I'm not impressed with the customers that shop here.
I turn down the next isle. Ace Burpee locks eyes with me.At this point I'm REALLY not impressed with the customers that shop here.
I try to finish the trip but I decide that I've had quite enough and will buy apples another day.
This is when the karma police finally stopped laughing "Okay, okay guys. That was funny, but I think we crossed the line a little. We should probably make it up to her."
I take my cart to check out 1. No line. Smiling Asian man.
I fill the mini treadmill with my belongings and hand him my bags.A smile finally creeps onto my face. The cashier seemingly has OCD. He fills my bags in a way I figured only I was capable of. He picks and chooses which item to scan next and places it in a perfect spot in the bag. He treats it like a puzzle.
An evenly weighted puzzle.
I leave the store thinking I broke even. In the future I decide to:
a) Never go grocery shopping alone.
And/or
b) Actually put on underwear prior to going...
