Notes from the Supermarket...

I've noticed the following things about my trips to the grocery store.

-- If you grew up in the south, and I include East Texas in that, you call them "buggies," not "shopping carts." I often say "shopping cart" now, and feel like I am betraying my heritage every time I utter the words.

-- The fancy cheese case is for people in a higher socioeconomic class than I belong to. This is not to say these cheeses are necessarily more expensive than others, though some are. It is just to say that I browse the fancy cheese case and think "If I made more money and lived in a certain kind of house and hung out with a certain type of person (English professors,) then I would purchase some of these cheeses."

-- Saturday nights are the best nights to shop. Sunday nights are the worst.

-- The best time to shop at the Wooded Acres H-E-B is between 6:30 and 7:00 a.m. Both the night and morning shifts are working, and there are hardly any customers. Oh, and the stocking-guy with the huge Afro is still working, and I've been watching that hair grow for years. It is probably about a foot and a half tall now, and I am not exaggerating.

-- White people at the grocery store are more likely to flirt and play peek-a-boo with black babies than with any other race of babies. I began to notice this a while back, because I do this. Today I asked my friend and coworker Nesha, who is black, about this and she agreed. She said that it was probably because we thought they were little monkeys, then told me she was just kidding when she realized I was beginning to feel like David Duke. My theory was less racist, but still didn't make me feel any better. I think it is a White Guilt thing. The white adult plays peek-a-boo with the black baby in an effort to tell the black parent "I am o.k. with you being here in the same place with me. I am not like the other white people you know. Oh, and sorry for history." Nesha agreed. She also said it was because black babies are cuter than white babies. I was glad she said that, because white people have been saying it for years, but unsure if it was acceptable to acknowledge in public.

-- At the checkout line, I refuse to use the plastic-divider-stick-thing. I believe that the amount of space between my groceries and those of the person in front of me should be sufficient to let the cashier know where one customer's items end and mine begins. If you ever want to see people freak out, you should try this. It is entertaining to watch the people in front of you get anxious that they are going to end up purchasing one of your items. About nine times out of ten they will put the stick behind their things in a passive aggressive statement that seems to say "I am NOT buying your stuff for you!!!!"