When I went out to do errands, I wore two necklaces: a sword, and a silver skull. It was my internal way of memorializing the events of Jan. 6th – the insurrectionists and the damage they caused. I wondered whether it would come up in any way during my various interactions. It didn’t. Just as well, because I likely would have been rude about it.
As I expected, the store was almost entirely out of eggs. A whole cold section of shelves with only a few dozen cartons of expensive eggs. A woman came up, looked, and said to me, “I wonder why there’s such a run on eggs.”
I informed her it was because of the bird flu wiping out huge numbers of birds.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “I heard something about that.”
A man nearby added, “This would have to happen just when my chickens stop laying. They’re three years old now. When they were laying, we were up to our ears in eggs. We’d have dozens of eggs a week. Now I have nine pet chickens.” He smiled. “nd I need to get home and feed them.” So saying, he grabbed a carton of eggs.
I moved on to a freezer section to grab some organic ground turkey. The price had suddenly gone up by two bucks a chub. I guess a lot of turkeys must be dying, too. As I was contemplating that, a woman appeared at my elbow.
She said, “Oh, that’s where they put it. I’ve been looking for it.”
“Yes, I had to fight to have them keep it in stock. They’ve kinda hidden it here.”
She said again that she was glad I’d helped her find it, even though I’d actually done nothing, but stand there. Henh.
I got over to the produce section and ran into a man I knew. Or thought I knew. I started a conversation thinking he was one person and after he started talking, I suddenly realized I wasn’t talking to who I thought I was, I was talking to the plumber who did a bunch of work at our house. Very nice guy, so I enjoyed chatting with him. Thank the gods I didn’t say anything that sounded too far out of bounds before I realized who he was. I’m terrible at recognizing people out of the context in which I know them.
Then I asked the produce manager if we were now stuck with the new type of plastic bags.
“They’re terrible,” I said. “They’re even harder to open than the other kind, and they’re opaque, so you can’t see what you have. It must drive the checkers crazy.”
She agreed, but “It’s a new California mandate. We have to use these bags now because they’re biodegradable. But they’re also really flimsy.” And she demonstrated how easily the bags tear. “That’s California for you.”
“Good intentions,” I said, “but not great execution.”
We ended up chatting some more. We’ve interacted quite a lot over the past few years because I’m never shy about asking for organic produce or bringing problems to her attention, and I always say hi to her regardless. She commented how much she enjoys that I talk with her. “Some people,” she said, “simply ignore me.”
Then she gave me an entire roll of the old, clear plastic bags to take home with me. LOL!
And that was my entertaining visit to the grocery store.
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