So yesterday I was in Kroger’s for the third day in a row. Why can’t I ever check to be sure I have all I need on my list before I go grocery shopping? I hate grocery shopping. Put that on the list of things I hate, along with Milan and Florida drivers. And since I live in two different states, food items can be tricky. Mostly, I eat whatever I can find — raisins, peanut butter, sardines.
Well, I needed to do some baking. Flour? — check. Sugar? — check. This is happening over two days, mind you. There continued to be things I didn’t check. On the third day, sure that I had finally managed to get all the needed ingredients, I pulled out the butter from the fridge and it was weird looking — kind of like marbled. I guess I bought it last year when I did some baking. Okay, I know I used to be a baker and owned a few bakeries, but now I bake kinda yearly.
So, I was in Kroger turning the corner to get the butter and bread — yes I forgot to put sliced bread on any of the lists I made — and I heard a lady say, “I hate Raleigh. You know I hate Raleigh.”
Well this really got my attention because this is one of the two places I live. And the house I decided to keep. You’ll remember in my last post, I finally decided which house to keep and which one to sell. So when I heard this I was surprised. I love Raleigh. Being the outgoing extrovert that I am (not), I blurted out, “You hate Raleigh? I love Raleigh! In fact I am in the process of moving back here.”
“From where?” she asked.
“South Carolina.”
“Oh, I hate all the south. I’m from Chicago. This place is all subdivisions. What do you like about it?”
“Well, I like that’s it’s a big enough city, but not overwhelming like a city of Chicago’s size. I like the variety of things to do with relative ease. Concerts, museums, the symphony, shopping — all the colleges.”
“Well, it’s gotten a lot bigger since I moved here in 1974.” Now her husband was standing there, but he wasn’t saying anything. I wonder why? And she’s lived here since 1974?
Then she told me, “Oh, I like the symphony too, but they start at 8:00 at night and he wants to leave the house at 8. So I won’t go.” I glanced at old hubby, but he wasn’t going to say or do anything.
At this point, I wanted to throw my hands up, roll my eyes and walk away. But since she was a stranger, and being aware of the conceal/carry laws now, I didn’t want to risk my life over this conversation. So wanting to end this peacefully, I said, “Well, let’s remember what holiday we will be celebrating this week.”
“Yes, Thanksgiving. I have a lot to be thankful for.” Really? She sure fooled me. That poor man.
I saw them as I was leaving the store. I chose to go out the other door because I was afraid she’d pick up the conversation again.