That's Life 3/26/2010

In all honesty, I am one of the craziest people I know, but you would have to get to know me to know that. I’ve been told that I look pretty normal until I start talking, so I guess, in my case, looks are deceiving.

I was walking around Costco wearing a sweater stained with coffee that I had spilled on myself as I walked into the store. It’s not like I walked around like that all day — only crazy people do that. But maybe that was what made a particular mother look at me askance. (Update: still no shidduch date sighting at Costco despite my suggestion.)

I was on the checkout line and I noticed an African American girl, probably about 9 years old, on line ahead of me. I figured she was with the adults directly ahead of her who were unloading their cart on to the conveyor. As they paid for their goods, however, and began to walk away, the young girl was still in the same spot. She wasn’t leaving with them and I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on.

“Are you here with someone?” I asked her. Yes, I was concerned for the safety of this child but also, to be honest, she was holding up the line and it was her turn to go, and if she wasn’t going to go, then I was. “I’m here with my mom,” she answered, and then followed with, “She’s still shopping.” “Oh,” I replied, wondering who would leave a child all alone as a place keeper in a checkout line so she could shop efficiently and pay quickly. “Do you know if she is on her way?” I asked, looking down the nearest aisle for someone who might be barreling towards us in an effort to leave the store quickly. “Nope,” she answered, not even looking around to see if she could spot her mom, and no cell phone with which to call to see where she was.

All of a sudden I noticed a woman hightailing her cart toward our line. Clearly, mom had finished shopping. She didn’t make eye contact with me nor did she make a thankful gesture for keeping her place on the line. After unloading her cart, she handed me the separator (mechitzah?) so that I could begin unloading mine.

The young girl commented on some of the items I was unloading. “Oooh, cheese,” she said as she saw me take numerous bags of shredded cheese out of my cart (lots of matzo pizza — lots of cheese). “I love cheese,” I replied, then grabbed the next item, Israeli cucumbers, and placed them on the belt. “What are those?” she asked inquisitively. “They’re cute.” I quickly explained what makes those particular cucumbers unique. (Abba, what makes these cucumbers different from all other cucumbers? On all other nights...)

It was at this point that her mom pulled her close and said, in none too quiet a tone, “Honey, don’t talk to strangers.” While that may be good advice to give children, I could not help but be struck by the obvious. Something about leaving the girl all alone, standing on line for about fifteen minutes or so was not unsettling to the mother, while on the other hand, there was something about her talking to me that made her nervous and made her ‘mommy radar’ go off. This woman had left her young child alone as a place keeper in Costco while she went off and shopped, and I was the problem with this situation?

Something, I would say, was rotten in the state of Denmark, but I didn’t say anything. I thought about it, but I didn’t. Tensions can run high at the check out counters at Costco and I just wanted to get out of there. Besides, I was too busy feeling bummed at being pegged as a Kaczynski to really get into it with this woman. I guess the stain on my sweater made me look crazier than I thought.

MLW