More Prattle from the Checkout Line

So, there I was waiting in line at our local (semi-upscale) Giant Food, minding my own business when I happened to look up at the woman in front of me at the register. She looked about my age (that would be mid to late 30s…) and had a kid with her—little girl, maybe 2.5. The mom had more of a hipster thing going on than most of the ladies one encounters in these parts: short hair, funky eyeglasses etc. Definitely somebody I’d strike up a conversation with at the playground…Then I caught a glimpse of the shit she was unloading onto the conveyor belt thing: cases of diet sodas and a stack of frozen “toddler meals”. I came this close to letting loose and giving her a good talking-to. Like I’ve said in the past, I’m no Nigella Lawson and certainly no stranger to fish sticks and frozen vegetables. But I’m sorry-- a mountain of TV dinners for my kid—I’ve got to draw the line. And don’t get me started on aspartame, splenda whatever. I’m a former diet cokehead who saw the light many years ago thanks to Gary Null and others. I really believe that stuff is poison. Most of the time, you don’t need a sweetener and when you do, a little sugar (or honey or whatever) is not going to hurt you. I certainly like a spoonful of good old-fashioned sugar in my tea every now and then. And as far as soft drinks go, the easiest thing is just to give them up all together. Of course, I didn’t say anything…I’m definitely not a holier than thou kind of gal (at least not openly). While I am happy to confirm that my grocery cart usually looks like a poster for the healthy food pyramid (lots of whole grains, leafy greens etc), I am, of course, so very far from perfect: as a mother, as a human being. I have no place to judge other people’s junk food. And yet….Absolutely must stop looking at other people’s groceries.
This brings to mind a former yoga teacher (one of my most admired people), who mentioned that whenever she’d run into students at the store, people tended to check out the contents her cart. I ran into her in the local Safeway once and had to really make an effort to keep from peeking into her basket. Because it’s me, I think I even told her, “I’m trying really hard not to look in your cart.” On a different occasion, years ago, I ran into a woman I knew at the same Safeway, shopping on her lunch break. She was buying a package of Little Debbie strawberry rolls and a carton of Kools, which I found somehow disturbing. A few years later, I found out, her husband cheated on her with a skinny coworker and they split up. Hadn’t seen that one coming, but I suppose I should have, given the corn syrup and menthol habit. As everyone knows, there are no secrets in a small town.