It’s January 19, 2025 –
A cold Saturday in Chicago.
The temperature is 27 degrees according to my car,
But the blast of cold air says otherwise.
We’ve had two days of good weather after frost advisory days to kick off the year.
And one of those two days, the sun was out and melted the small amount of snow accumulation on the ground with no anticipated snowfall for the next week.
It’s just water puddles, dirty car exteriors from all the salt used in the previous week, and muddy grass spots.
I find myself at the grocery store –
Chasing a sale for my mother.
A man walks in front of me with a miller lite beer case and brand new shovel in hand as I make my way to register 3. I’m holding three heads of cabbage and a bag of Cape Cod Sour Cream and Onion chips in my hands waiting for the check out counter to have space for me to put them down.
In front of me, two women quickly unload what I assume is their weekly grocery trip – several cups of yogurt, eggs, Cheerios, milk, coffee, coffee creamer, sugar, several chocolate bars, lettuce, tomato, carrots, apples, pistachios, bread, chicken breast, wine, and two cases of water.
As the cashier is processing their transaction, I hear the cashier from register two shout out, “liquor on two”. My turn comes!
I greet the cashier and follow with, “no bags please” which is met with silent judgement. The reusable mesh produce bags I use are at home. I forgot them on the dining room table when I was putting my gloves on.
Another customer comes into the same check out lane as the cashier continues his silent judgement as he weighs each cabbage individually. The only reason I took note of the other customer was because of the click-clack-clink each of the boxes of beer bottles in his purchase made as he put them on the conveyor belt. I glanced over and noticed that one of the six boxes was a wine coolers. Do you remember those days of your youth?
The interaction ends politely – and I leave with cabbage and chips in one arm and my change nestled in the receipt that is crumpled in my other hand, firmly balled in a fist to conceal its contents as I shove it in my jacket pocket for further protection.
Chasing a sale for my mother.
A man walks in front of me with a miller lite beer case and brand new shovel in hand as I make my way to register 3. I’m holding three heads of cabbage and a bag of Cape Cod Sour Cream and Onion chips in my hands waiting for the check out counter to have space for me to put them down.
In front of me, two women quickly unload what I assume is their weekly grocery trip – several cups of yogurt, eggs, Cheerios, milk, coffee, coffee creamer, sugar, several chocolate bars, lettuce, tomato, carrots, apples, pistachios, bread, chicken breast, wine, and two cases of water.
As the cashier is processing their transaction, I hear the cashier from register two shout out, “liquor on two”. My turn comes!
I greet the cashier and follow with, “no bags please” which is met with silent judgement. The reusable mesh produce bags I use are at home. I forgot them on the dining room table when I was putting my gloves on.
Another customer comes into the same check out lane as the cashier continues his silent judgement as he weighs each cabbage individually. The only reason I took note of the other customer was because of the click-clack-clink each of the boxes of beer bottles in his purchase made as he put them on the conveyor belt. I glanced over and noticed that one of the six boxes was a wine coolers. Do you remember those days of your youth?
The interaction ends politely – and I leave with cabbage and chips in one arm and my change nestled in the receipt that is crumpled in my other hand, firmly balled in a fist to conceal its contents as I shove it in my jacket pocket for further protection.