Harris Teeter

Sunday morning I woke up and craved normalcy. Lately my life has been anything but 'ordinary' or 'normal'. I sat back and wondered to myself (in between dozing) what could I do that would make me feel as if I were apart of the human race again? What's my idea of normal? What do others do that I haven't done in about as long as I can remember? The lightening bolt came streaking through the sky and struck my cranium full force: Grocery shopping!

Pushing unwashed hair (cause I was just too damn lazy all morning) under a baseball cap, pulling the brim low over my eyes so that no one noticed how "tow" up I looked and sliding my manicured feet into bamboo sandals, I padded out the front door, squinting at the sun.

Once I got to the markets parking lot, I waited for nearly 4 minutes for some chick, who had seen me waiting for her, to pull her little Jetta out of the spot. Did she? No. She just sat there probably laughing to herself and thinking "I'm not moving from this spot till I'm good and ready so she can go pound sand". And so I waited trying to be patient, realizing that I had become rather uncouth in my recent 'out of touch-ness' with polite society. I felt as if some sort of restraint had to be displayed no matter how I wanted to curse up a storm, lean on the horn and start every sentence with "Why you dimwitted..." and end with 'fuckwit'. But I resisted, wanting to make my shopping expedition a pleasant one.

6 minutes later I pulled into a parking space. Not the one I was waiting for because that cow was in fact sitting in her car mentally telling me to fuck off. I got a different one, shot a nasty look at blond bitch-ette in the Jetta, popped my earphones into my ear and stomped into the store. It was exactly as I walked through the sliding glass doors that I remembered precisely why I didn't like to come to Teeter.

Holy Yuppie-ville Batman!

I have never ever felt so out of place in my life (save the time I was standing in front of the Elizabeth Arden's Red Door Spa in Tyson's 1 (or is that 2?) and was debating whether to go in and one of the well coiffed incredibly well groomed women came gliding out to look down her long patrician nose at me as if I were a flee bitten cat that had just rolled around in dirt and dung). I stood eyeing the milling people who crowded the deli and prepared foods counter to my right, in fascination and trepidation. To my left began the produce section. Little Yuppies hopped around smiling widely, their Colgate smiles blinding me, as they politely picked with infinite care the best sprouts, the crispest asparagus and the ripest organic tomatoes.

I didn't realize it, or at least I believe I may have conveniently forgotten, that this Teeter in particular was the one where people went to see and be seen. In a grocery store : I don't know quite what to say about that. I've never been one of them people. To me you get grocery, you pay, you leave, you maybe singing a stupid elevator song in your head all the way home but generally that's the most I get out of the experience. These people had a totally different idea in mind.

Unlike myself, who sported ratty jeans with frayed legs and a t-shirt that said 'Not listening' with a metallic monkey on the front, these people had pulled out their best LL Bean, Ann Taylor, J Crew and Banana Republic threads (upper crust yet casual). They strolled around beaming at each other, checking one another out and the flirting...oh my...so much flirting. It was as if I were at a nightclub sitting on the sideline watching the show. I went between fascinated and horrified. In fact I went careening into the prepared cheese section when I saw two people reach for the same melon and 'accidentally' brushed hands. Man this stuff was better than a friggin' Harlequin Romance!

It would have been great except that just like the lady coming out of Red Door these people looked at me quite similarly. I felt as if I hadn't showered (which I hadn't but I didn't stink!) in weeks (which I had of course, the day before to be precise) and had worn my underwear outside my clothes.

Still all this I could handle, even the looks of disdain, and the very rare looks of interest (mostly coming from the dude who was throwing out the husks of the corn), because for the most part I have always managed to plod on in the face of adversity, show gumption even when I didn't feel like it and generally not give a flying fuckle about what others think.

The 'straw' that finally broke the proverbial camels proverbial back was when I picked up a box of macaroni (the fancy type too cause they didn't have the regular ol' blue and yellow stuff) and gasped. Holy Shit.

What? How much do they want? Good lord! HIGHWAY ROBBERY! I wanted to bellow out in the midst of the happy yuppies strolling by hand in hand scaring them witless but hopefully enlightening them as to how they truly are being gouged of their hard earned pressed crisp dollars! I wanted to shake them, wake them up and say "run, run to the nearest Shoppers and see what you can get for 4 bucks...probably everything you have in your cart right now! Flee!! Gooooo!!!"

I should have stormed out of there but seeing as how I was already well into my foray I put the box down and scuttled along to pick up a select few more items after which I hightailed it out of the store and swore to never go back.

Look for another entry in about...um...6 months with more...I'm just a glutton for punishment and I have lousy memory.