Since I’ve retired I do most of the grocery shopping. We try to eat “right” so I buy mostly locally produced organic food. Around here, that means going to a health food store in Burlington that is big enough, and with sufficient variety, that I can get almost everything in one spot.
I like it. The shelves are not in neat rows but are at angles that create the illusion of curves that defy my ability to construct a path between familiar products. Even after months of two or three shopping trips each, I sometimes have to ask where I might find a needed item. It’s something different every time and the variety of experience appeals to me.
Yesterday I was curious about goat cheese. (Who hasn’t been there?)
“What can you tell me about goat cheese?” I asked the woman behind the counter. Young, like most of the staff, she exuded a nonjudgmental aura reminiscent of the 60’s. In fact, most of the staff evoked a neo-hippy culture, with their yin and yang tattoos and novel hairstyles. It is almost as if our children – who rebelled by becoming young republicans – had their own rebels.
“I can tell you lots about goat cheese!” she replied and proceeded to show me all the products with explanations rife with comparisons to cow’s milk cheeses and adjectives like “creamy, rich,” and “yummy.” She was round faced and stocky in an almost maternal way, accented by her colorful peasant blouse and apron.
Thanking her, I selected three different cheeses that she had been most effusive about and continued to seek out the rest of the stuff on my list.
When I had finished shopping, I wheeled my cart to the checkout counter. There was no line so I began by putting the items I had selected, frozen first followed by produce and then fragile items as usual.
The young woman behind the register, a slender blond, was not someone I had seen before but with the requisite irreverent pleasantness I had come to expect. The staff does not wear name tags and I don’t want to ask so we’ll just call her Nora.
“If you give me those, Jonah will bag for you.” She said, referring simultaneously to the reusable sacks I always take and to the bearded young man who had appeared at the end of her counter.
I complied and Nora began to tally up my purchases and slide them to Jonah who placed them into the bags.
“Could I also get the senior discount?” I asked as she continued.
“Of course.”
From my right I heard Jonah say to someone behind me, “I can take you on that register down there,” leaving the counter littered with the remaining items.
“I bet you feel abandoned now,” I joked to Nora.
“Yes, well, it happens all the time, feeding my neurosis, and yet – I keep coming back.” a wry grin playing across her lips.
“Everyone’s a little neurotic.”
“I suppose.” She said as the register made a loud “Boing!” indicating that the skew on the item hadn’t properly registered.
“Can you imagine what it would be like to be completely sure of yourself? There’d be no challenges.”
Brightening a bit, “Challenges are good,” she replied.
A young woman who was multiply tattooed and pierced had materialized to replace the unfaithful Jonah, added. “Yeah, and most of those people are jerks!”
“Do you want this beer in a bag?” Nora asked referring to the six pack of Belhaven I had placed on the conveyer.
“Nah, I’m just going to drink it in the parking lot.”
“Hah,” Her laugh erupted as if suppressed just under the surface. “You’re awake for this time of day – come through my line anytime!”
I like it. The shelves are not in neat rows but are at angles that create the illusion of curves that defy my ability to construct a path between familiar products. Even after months of two or three shopping trips each, I sometimes have to ask where I might find a needed item. It’s something different every time and the variety of experience appeals to me.
Yesterday I was curious about goat cheese. (Who hasn’t been there?)
“What can you tell me about goat cheese?” I asked the woman behind the counter. Young, like most of the staff, she exuded a nonjudgmental aura reminiscent of the 60’s. In fact, most of the staff evoked a neo-hippy culture, with their yin and yang tattoos and novel hairstyles. It is almost as if our children – who rebelled by becoming young republicans – had their own rebels.
“I can tell you lots about goat cheese!” she replied and proceeded to show me all the products with explanations rife with comparisons to cow’s milk cheeses and adjectives like “creamy, rich,” and “yummy.” She was round faced and stocky in an almost maternal way, accented by her colorful peasant blouse and apron.
Thanking her, I selected three different cheeses that she had been most effusive about and continued to seek out the rest of the stuff on my list.
When I had finished shopping, I wheeled my cart to the checkout counter. There was no line so I began by putting the items I had selected, frozen first followed by produce and then fragile items as usual.
The young woman behind the register, a slender blond, was not someone I had seen before but with the requisite irreverent pleasantness I had come to expect. The staff does not wear name tags and I don’t want to ask so we’ll just call her Nora.
“If you give me those, Jonah will bag for you.” She said, referring simultaneously to the reusable sacks I always take and to the bearded young man who had appeared at the end of her counter.
I complied and Nora began to tally up my purchases and slide them to Jonah who placed them into the bags.
“Could I also get the senior discount?” I asked as she continued.
“Of course.”
From my right I heard Jonah say to someone behind me, “I can take you on that register down there,” leaving the counter littered with the remaining items.
“I bet you feel abandoned now,” I joked to Nora.
“Yes, well, it happens all the time, feeding my neurosis, and yet – I keep coming back.” a wry grin playing across her lips.
“Everyone’s a little neurotic.”
“I suppose.” She said as the register made a loud “Boing!” indicating that the skew on the item hadn’t properly registered.
“Can you imagine what it would be like to be completely sure of yourself? There’d be no challenges.”
Brightening a bit, “Challenges are good,” she replied.
A young woman who was multiply tattooed and pierced had materialized to replace the unfaithful Jonah, added. “Yeah, and most of those people are jerks!”
“Do you want this beer in a bag?” Nora asked referring to the six pack of Belhaven I had placed on the conveyer.
“Nah, I’m just going to drink it in the parking lot.”
“Hah,” Her laugh erupted as if suppressed just under the surface. “You’re awake for this time of day – come through my line anytime!”
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