Grocery Stores Are The Enemy

I have a new nemesis: grocery shopping.

My senses have returned to me. My situational awareness and skill in observation are keen again, and what I've sensed is that shopping for one bites the big donkey. I've been avoiding the grocery store for some time, but I couldn't hold out any longer.

As soon as I removed only two bananas I caught a glance from a lady that said, "shouldn't you be at the licquor store, bucco?" And then HOLY COW you should have seen the appraisal this lady with her son gave me in the Organic section. Her wrinkly eyes screamed "Shouldn't you just stick to Chef Boyardee?"

Even the cheese says "Kraft Singles" and then comes in two dozen. I prefer block cheese anyways, discriminators! Buns? Family size. Bread? Simply proof that 'just enough' is a foreign concept in America.

And there is a bit of sadness in all the hustle. My cart ends up costing 40 bones, and will last for a week. Everyone assumes that I am 1, a party-boy, or 2, dumped or kicked out by some girl or wife that is deservedly pissed at me.

So I implore all you shoppers out there, reserve judgment from dudes in leather jackets at the grocery store. You never really do know their story.