Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Deli

Last night when going home, stop by deli to buy milk and dog treats. Also feel that am on the verge of getting scurvy, so pick out four navel oranges--also three yogurts (two peach, one Black Cherry,) box of grapenuts, 2 cans of cannellini beans, 2 boxes of organic chicken stock, bag of carrots, Dijon mustard, and block of extra sharp cheddar cheese. Basket very heavy. Need to use both hands to heft basket up on to sliver of counter next to cash register. Feel suddenly aware of chill in air. Woman behind the register informs me that she Hates It when people put baskets on the counter. This line is delievered to the wall behind me in regal tones. She then gives a look which makes it clear that I am to empty the offending basket myself and that it would probably be best if I wedged a chair under the door handle tonight. Can think of no response except Sorry, which she doesn't acknowledge. Leaving store am stunned by the experience--not upset exactly--feel vaugely pleased that she felt enough of me to give her honest opinion but at the same time am puzzled. Many times there is a man who think must be her husband (why?) who works the register. When he tots up the bill he always asks, Howare Yoo? (stretching out the oos) and then when we are done he inclines his head and says Thank Yoo in the same gracious way. Aren't we all different.

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