Vignettes from my Crazy Life

Supermarket Adventures

There's a large ethnic supermarket not far from my house that I frequent on occasion. And, today I was in need of bread crumbs, eggs and a pineapple. Well, the pineapple was an impulsive purchase because they looked and smelled so very yummy.

I checked the thermometer on the dashboard of the car as I pulled into the parking lot around 10:30 AM; a beautiful California day. 83 degrees F. I stepped from the car and perched my shades on top of my freshly blown hair, straightened my black t-shirt that was adorned with various sponsors from last seasons soccer tournament and slid the car keys into the front pocket of my denim shorts.

I enjoy this store. It's not that I actually enjoy grocery shopping, I just really appreciate the atmosphere of this particular establishment. It's bright and festive. Happy. I have an established route too. I enter the store through the eastern door and stroll by the freshly made cakes and breads; too many to chose from, both sweet and savory selections. And, if your timing is on point and you arrive when the bread is in the oven, it's as if you smell heaven itself. Mouthwatering.

My eyes also feast on the hand prepared cuisine in the display case: beef, pork, chicken and delicately prepared vegetables dance behind the glass and when the aroma meets your nose, your mouth waters. It's entertaining to watch as the workers prepare the goodies. You can peer right into the heart of the kitchen and see it all happen. Delicious.

This store also has a fresh juice bar. My favorite is usually carrot and OJ but, today I was offered a sample of freshly squeezed spinach, green apple and pineapple and it was easily the choice. Refreshing.

My legs automatically take me for a walk along the back of the store to view the handiwork of the butchers. Butchering meat is definitely an art form when done by a seasoned artisan and not by a lifeless piece of machinery. I'm fascinated by the different cuts, marbling, and colors. It's also a treat to watch as the butcher effortlessly wields his blade in practicing his craft. Flawless.

And I can't leave the store unless I pass through 'The Garden.' This store offers every fruit and vegetable possible; from apples to yams and everything in between. All colors of the rainbow are represented uniquely in zucchini, eggplant, peaches, plumbs and strawberries etc. It's all very good stuff and a treat for your senses. Beautiful.

I see it. I'm drawn in by a mound of fresh pineapples and they are singing my name. I know exactly what that tastes like and I want it. I pick one up and place it in the cart as I'm thinking about how sweet it will be when I sink my teeth into it. Sweetness.

I gather the other two items on my list and head straight away for the cash register. I place two items on the black conveyor belt and am left holding the pineapple when my internal alarm sounds; someone is in my personal space. I turn my head just slightly to the right and I catch a glimpse of a dark haired man; his slightly scruffy face is so close to mine. Too close. And, to make it worse, I feel his warm breath pass over my exposed neck and ear. I do note the absence of the smell of alcohol so I'm not going with the 'I'm drunk' excuse.

I make eye contact with Gianna, the cashier, and take a quick step forward. To my dismay and annoyance, so does the man. I look at my hands that are still holding the pineapple with the pokey leaves and consider thrusting it over my shoulder into his face. Sensing my frustration, and if she could read my mind, she quickly grabs the red stick that's used to divide orders and jabs it between my back and his chest, causing him to push back slightly. I'm sure he shot her an irritated look, or maybe it was one of belligerence. The neighboring cashier must have witnessed the little encounter and immediately walked over and pulled the mystery man into his lane to check out.

I flashed Gianna a relieved smile, paid for my purchases and quickly left the building while still clutching my weapon of choice, the pineapple.

I'm not sure what the deal was with the rude male customer. It was either his bad manners or the Viva La Juicy I used earlier. Or, perhaps he was trying to steel a sip of my juice. I'm happy to say that I'll never know.