As I mentioned a few days ago, I went to the grocery store on Saturday night. Saturday night is an interesting time to go to the grocery store, I've found. Not only do you avoid crowds (seems most people do something else to do on a Saturday night), but the people who *are* there are, in many cases...people who would go to the grocery store on Saturday night.
Some are, like me, completely normal, rational people who just *happened* to be free on a Saturday night and have an empty pantry. Completely normal. Got that? Not pathetic in any way. They had plans on Friday and plans on Sunday, so they kept Saturday free for household chores. That's all. Draw no conclusions.
But the others...well, just try going sometime and you'll see. Even the people who work there notice it. I found that the guys in the produce section were very chatty with me. No one ever talks to me at the grocery store. Honestly, I can't remember anyone who works there (or for that matter, anyone who doesn't work there) ever approaching me. But two, count 'em two, produce guys started conversations with me. And no, I wasn't lookin' all hot. I had on overalls, no makeup and my hair was in a ponytail. But I think I had an air of normalcy that they craved contact with.
The person who best captured the air of the Saturday night shopper at the Hancock Center HEB was an older lady in the meat section. She had on a housedress and slippers, and she was methodically going through the small packages of pork chops - the ones that contained just a couple of chops. She was picking up the packages from an upper shelf one by one, looking at the prices, and then dropping them unceremoniously, to the point of almost throwing them, down on the bottom shelf...where the family-size packages were located. She must've dislocated at least 10 packages. All the while, she sort of muttered to herself.
Keep in mind, I was also trying to buy pork chops. I tried to look at her disapprovingly as she mangled the display, but she was big, like about 6 foot, and I got afraid she might be crazy, so I just walked away and went to the chicken section, hoping she'd find what she wanted and move on. But she didn't. She sort of shuffled off once or twice like she was going to go elsewhere, but then she'd come back and dig through them some more - tossing things around and creating mayhem, throwing the entire pork section into disarray. I finally had to just dive in, find what I wanted and hope she didn't beat me with her purse for interfering with her quest for the perfect package of pork chops.
She didn't. She watched me - perhaps thinking that if I happened to lay my hands on THE package that she so desired, she'd snatch it out of my hands. If she had, believe me, I would've let her have it. "I think you're right, ma'am! Those ARE the best ones of the lot!! Enjoy!!"
In short order (because you know I was motivated to get the hell outta the entire meat department at that point), I found a package to suit my needs and headed for the dairy section. When I left, she looked like she was going to start digging through them again. I can't tell you if she did. I didn't look back.
1 comment:
Sometimes, when we drop the kids off at the church for Parents Night Out, Scott comes home to work and I go to the store. It is not a safe place on weekend nights here in River City.
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