Tuesday, November 30, 2010

From the shopping cart.

From the shopping cart.

What a person throws in their shopping cart can tell you a lot about them. Beer, Microwaveable dinners, Fruits & Vegetables, Soy Milk, Organic Jelly Beans, Frozen Juice, Real Butter, paper products, hand soap, household cleaners, electrical tape, wire hangers among other things can speak volumes about the type of person you are.

It’s funny how a person shops in a grocery store and never pays any real notice to the people around them. The tiny things that happen when you’re putting the cream corn in the basket between taking calls on your phone. Where you’re placing your hand when you select the best carton of eggs isn’t something that someone else might notice, but nevertheless it shouldn’t be overlooked. Cause the hand is quicker than the eye and they might have noticed more than ordinary instead of looking the other way.

Between dropping a bottle of liquid Drano and grabbing a box of Saltines there’s a man in the next aisle making his typical round. A solitary man with a pack of beer and a stack of TV dinners is also buying hoards of baby formula, household detergent, rodent poison and disposable water bottles. One might think that he is up to something. Or perhaps his wife runs a daycare from home. And somehow, cleanliness is next to godliness.

Thinly sliced Rye can’t be missed as the man in the aisle is behaving like a child with his hands in the bread. Oh dear, oh dear. What more can be said about the man with the bread as he fingers and snickers? And what of his wife who does not know as she passes the row. Her unseen eyes are trained on a prize. Let down your guard; don’t be afraid to take charge. So says she who pushes over you before pushing over a man for some Oreos in aisle 13. But past all the pushing is a handful of cushion in the next row. Softly pliable layers of tissue paper to add to the cart. Placed gently between the Ammonia and Peroxide, the allergy pills and canned olives.

Over in the frozen section and onto the deli. Thirteen pounds of ice, a couple of bottles of motor oil and three freshly cut sirloin steaks from the Butcher. The man playing Butcher looks over the counter at a pair of teenage girls that resemble a pair of street walkers instead of a pair of bobby-soxers. The pair has finished pilfering the make-up section and have helped themselves to a bag full of Covergirl cosmetics. One girl has her ass pressed against the cool hard glass of the seafood display to ice down her teenage libido. All the while the other girl leans over the counter showing the nice Butcher man a pair of her best assets as she is fogging up the glass with her breath. Drawing fish faces on the glass of the deli meat counter while giving him a show. A show that will get him fired in the next ten or so if the manager walks out, or watches the tape before Adam the security guard steals it to make copies for illegal sale.

Then there’s the man down aisle 10. He’s not shopping for a household. Yet he has a full cart of
Groceries and is now making his final selection. Trojan. X-Large. No. Make that small. Cause no one is supposed to be looking. No one. Not at all looking at the extra large cucumbers as he reaches for the rubbers. And a bottle of lube. That Lube to go with his Betty Crocker brownie mix. Isn’t it nice? That lubricant can follow a glass of OJ in the morning nicely. Pass the eggs dear. Just push the anal beads and cucumbers out of the way. Right out in the open.

In the open where there’s no limit on dietary supplements and baking soda. No limits on any of the pressured combustibles in aisle 18. But if you buy more than two 24-packs of Coca-cola this week, you will have to make another trip in, on another day. Please allow the savings for all our customers, but don’t worry about loading up on the bleach. Javier can help you out to your car, Ma’am. Of course not, you will need help with all of those heavy bottles.

But before Javier can help you haul out the goods, that’s when they tell you just like they’ll tell the guy before you and the next guy after, “Thank you for your support” with a fake smile and script. And that’s when you’ll say “Thank you for your service” as a token of courtesy but think their warmness masks insincerity. Cause it’s not what you buy as so much of how much you buy. Those things that make up your dinner, your unmentionables and your perhaps your arsenal. The things you might think matter, things that define you and make you who you are. What would you be without all those things you buy? In the end it won’t matter and they won’t notice but they’ll still thank you for coming back in to purchase your groceries.

As you load up the goods then comes the man with his small condoms and cucumbers exiting with a full cart of all that he didn’t need followed by the girls with their stolen makeup and the man with the baby formula overload. After Javier finishes unloading the last bottles of bleach and tells you good night he won’t ask what it’s for. The arsenal that waits between the eggs, the Drano, and the jam. Because they don’t ask about it. The bread, the creamed corn, Ammonia and Peroxide. They simply never do. They won’t need to know the talking volumes of what you’ve bought or what it’s for. Only that you’ve bought it, and that it’s paid for.

Grocery stores. Ever watch people shopping? You know you really aren’t supposed to. REALLY?! I know. As a matter of fact, I’m told its bad manners. But everyone does it. And if you haven’t you must. Shh! This is another from earlier this year. Around March/April. So how was the weekend? Amazing holiday shopping? For moi, it’s been an interesting few days. Down and out with a bit of that nasty contagion that has passed around everywhere. Which being sick... missing the writing and actually the photographs. Let’s just say the unfocusing camera was dusted off once again. Anyhow… enjoy. kisses. m.

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