I did my grocery shopping today. I’m still processing my experience in the produce section. I spotted GRAPES on the list, so I moseyed over to the grape isle and sidled up next to a senior citizen by the Dole seedless (green and red… score!).
This grandmotherly looking lady was taking clumps of apparently unworthy grapes out of one bag and cherry picking clumps from others to put in her “special” bag. Every dern holey plastic grape bag was open and this lady was working like she had a tape worm at an all-you-can-eat-buffet.
I stopped my shopping experience and stared at her for a moment just to take in the whole picture. She noticed me standing there and suddenly stopped poaching, then picked right back up at a slower rate, with occasional furtive glances my way.
Apparently, she thought I wouldn’t notice if she were trading grapes slowly, but she didn’t know who she was dealing with. Sure, it threw me off, but only for a second.
She eventually left to do more fruit trading, and I gathered up a tainted bag and continued on my quest for turgid bok choy... That’s how I roll.
It is only now that I sit in my house after rinsing the grapes with bleach and 7th Generation bathroom cleaner that I wonder which bundle of grapes she put in my bag and what she didn’t like about them.
Am I eating grapes that are too small? Too far apart? Not “grapey” enough?
I’m confused and feel like I’m missing something important in life.
If I ever see her again, I will follow her and learn her fruit quality detection techniques. She will be my Yoda. Oh, yes... she will.
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