All of my posts here are carefully edited to present my best
self—or at least as good as it gets. On the following occasion, I heard the jewels of my starry crown come crashing to the concrete floor of Costco.
I was rushing through the biggest box store on my own, with
just a few items bouncing around in one of their monster carts. I maneuvered to
a short check-out lane, pacing a woman pushing her overflowing cart to the same
spot. A photo replay could have
told which of us had been first, but I was not feeling gracious. I had wedged
this last errand into a too-short window before a long-delayed lunchtime. That
was an unusual and bad choice for me as I eat like a toddler: a little bit at a
time, but all of the time. I aligned my cart a little closer to the conveyor
belt to indicate I had reached some invisible marker first. She gave me a sour
shake of her head, so I gently nudged the end of her cart with mine to assert
my right to precedence. She bumped
my cart back and we began snipping at each other. Her husband walked up with a
few items to add to her cart—another point against her, by all the holy rules
of grocery engagement—and I turned to glare at him. I thought uncharitably that
he looked very much like Mr. Toad of Toad Hall and that he and his fishwife
made a fine pair. He looked from her to me with a dog-like tilt of his head and
raised both hands to pat the air before saying, “Ladies, ladies…” We both glared at him in turn but he
smiled gently at us both. She looked down and a warm wave of shame enveloped
me. After an uncomfortable moment I
said, “I am sorry, this is not who I am, this took way longer than I expected and
I am just so hungry. She said, “You know, I get that way, too, that’s why I
carry almonds with me. Would you like some?” I said yes and she drew a plastic baggie of nuts from her
purse. I cupped my hands to receive them, but she reached over her cart to push
six almonds into my mouth, one-by-one with a pause in between while I chewed
and swallowed.
Soon after, another lane opened and we had an “After you,
Alphonse” exchange before one of us took it. My blood sugar up and my shame firmly pushed down, I watched my adversary-turned-ally finish
up first and walk away with her--as it happened--quite lovely husband.
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