Tuesday, November 07, 2006
My local grocery store is a Publix. I shop there twice or three times weekly. I'm trying to get my act together though, and shop only once. Working on it.
Anyway, being there so much, you get to recognize people. The Indian manager, often in a dark blue button-down. The old dude who sneaks cigarettes while collecting shopping carts. Rosa, the pretty cashier. The chatty hispanic bagger who's going to night school for his GED. And then there's the mentally disabled guy.
One reason I love Publix is they hire people like this. I have shopped in several Publixes, and they all have mentally disabled people. I think this is super-great. I should write a letter!
But anyway, today I happened to be on line behind the mentally disabled guy (and my cashier happened to be Rosa). I couldn't help but notice what he was buying, it was right there on the belt thingy. Four cans of baby beans. A roasted chicken. Several cans of Chef Boyardee. Sliced turkey. Strawberries. Whole wheat bread with oatmeal.
They were joshing him as he wrote a check. "Hey, lemme see your I.D. Lemme see your driver's license." "Want my passport?" He said. I wondered if he drove a car. I wondered about his life. Does he live alone? With family? Who's gonna eat that rotisserie chicken with him?
Sometimes, thinking about other people stops me from thinking about my own life. I'm can't help but wonder if it's a defense mechanism.
p.s. Totally unrelated, but Chaya told me her teacher pulled out another girl's tooth. I guess it's her thing.