Strangers?

Today I did the usual Sunday stuff which included shopping at Safeway. I wish that I could do all of my shopping at Costco but it is just not possible. So there I was. I went later than I wanted because my son kept telling me that he would wrap up his Overwatch game and he kept not doing it. Until finally, I just left the house and called him from the car to tell him that I was leaving.

The SB line at Safeway was ridiculous because only one person was working. I wonder if it some kind of torture test Starbucks has for its grocery store based employees or if people call in sick. Either way, it really sucks. I know, first world problem. But it is ridiculous.

I was just about done shopping but decided to see about picking up laundry detergent. I feel like I am always on the fence about laundry detergent. Especially when we lived where there was a communal washer. I read somewhere about residual soap being enough to clean clothes but maybe I just used that as an excuse to not buy detergent. Anyway, when I got to the aisle there was an older woman whose cart was blocking my entrance. My first thought was one of irritation. I would normally wait to be acknowledged and have the person just move but today, I put on my nice tone of voice and asked if she could move her cart. She apologized profusely and did so. She had been at the end of the aisle looking at this giant display of what I would call, designer marshmallows. And I was intrigued. She was older than me. White hair. Small accent. I asked her about them. She said that she had seen them in the local paper and that they were on sale. She proceeded to take out the article from the paper that she had with her to show me. The marshmallows were beautiful. Square. In ridiculous flavors like mint chocolate chip and pineapple coconut. And yes, I ended up buying a bag. Then she asked me if I liked bread. I told her yes, and she told me to try the bread that they bake at Safeway, the sunflower seed bread, maybe with honey? She told me that she had called because the last time they didn’t have it. I told her that I would check it out. And then I told her to have a good weekend.

And then I realized how different the shopping experience was for me, just because I had spoken to this woman. And connected with her for the teeniest of moments. Over overpriced and silly flavored marshmallows. I don’t know her. I don’t know her beliefs. Maybe we could not be friends. But that moment. During that small moment we connected. And maybe we just need more small moments. Because the small moments teach us that despite everything, maybe we have more in common than not. And that can’t be a bad thing.

 

 

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About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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