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The grocery store, ugh!
The grocery store, for me, is a necessary horror. I’m handicapped and I can walk the store if I must, but the agony after the fact wipes me out for the rest of the day. I always hope for one of those ride on carts.
Which is a mixed blessing. I’m also fat and I look considerably younger than I am. The disgusted stares and nasty comments are a different kind of agony.
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I’m checking out at the grocery store. I hear the guy in the next line say “Double bag that; I got a long way to walk.”
I look over and it’s an elderly black man, had to be in his late 60s-early 70s. On a whim, I say “I’ll drive you. Wait up for me while I finish checking out.”
Both cashiers, his and mine, grinned at me. Mine said “That’s very nice of you.”
The man smiled broadly at me. “Why, thank you, young lady.”
He loaded my groceries into the car for me and got in. We introduced ourselves and he remarked repeatedly on what a nice car I have.
And that’s how I met James.
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He didn’t live far, at least not by car, and we had a nice conversation on the way. He’s a snowbird and lives in a trailer park. When we got there, his neighbor was sitting outside.
We shook hands again and I told him it was nice to meet him. He said if I needed anything I should come on by.
His neighbor asked who I was as James was getting out of the car and James told him I offered to give him a ride home and wasn’t that nice of me.
Smiling, I drove on home.
I’m smiling as I write this. I guess the grocery store isn’t so bad after all.
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