Already disappointed the local butcher and grocery store don't carry things like porter house or t-bone steaks, I silently stewed as I ran my other four purchases through the sell check out aisle. Some how, hearing the robotic "blip, blip, blip" sound as the scanner reads the UPC codes is mildly comforting.
The weight of several corn on the cob has a tendency to rip the plastic bags, so I always double bag them after I place them in the first bag. It was the last of my items and I leaned over to grab my purse to pull out my debit card. Keep in mind I hadn't moved. This was all done in a twisty-turning movement, courtesy of years of yoga classes. With my back to the screen and the scanner, I was surprised to hear the robotic "blip, blip, blip" song start up again.
This time I did move, and was surprised to see the back of another woman. I could tell she was young enough to be in a hurry, but old enough to know better. Miss Iminahurry ran her items over the scanner just as I had done, tossing them in the bag after each 'blip' and then stood up to look at the total when she had finished.
She stared at the screen for a minute, smacking a giant wad of pink bubble gum, moving closer to make sure she hadn't misunderstood the number.
"Why is it so much?" I heard her whisper.
She still hadn't realized I was standing there. Life had fallen off its axis and she was trying to right it. Perhaps the amount of hair spray in her jet black curly hair had not only frozen the curls in place, but also decimated some brain cells in the process. I was in that kind of a mood.
She looked closely at the screen and then stood back on her heels, as if to call for assistance. I could picture her mind saying "This machine must be broken, all I bought was milk, bread, butter and some Captain Crunch."
As she turned to call for someone, she saw me.
She looked at me and I smiled. She looked at the total on the screen and then back at me.
Okay, I thought, I think she might figure this one out.
Then she looked at the screen and back at me again
Here it comes, the thought is coming to the surface, yes, its almost there......
"Oh. Weren't you finished checking out?"
Houston, we have contact.
"No, darlin'." I decided to answer in my best southern drawl.
They don't cotton too kindly to New Yorker's here, I have learned, so I periodically break out in another dialect. Sometimes I'm even British. Today, I was from Atlanta.
"I wasn't." I crooned, ever so sweetly. "But I thought it was right neighborly for you to buy my groceries for me on this right fine day. Thank you, ever so much!" I smiled my biggest Miss Julia smile I could find.
She looked at me, still confused as to the chain of events, trying to piece together parts of this big puzzle she realized she had missed.
It was at that moment that I realized I was looking into the face of real innocence. There was no attitude, no agenda, no angry response. She was just a girl from her own private planet, otherwise known as Idaho.
"It's okay, darlin'" I said then, relieving her of the burden of this difficult scenario. "Let's call the manager and work this out."
She's lucky today wasn't the day I was from New Jersey.
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