I'm changing my name to Butterfly Rainbow Jones.
I've been wondering why I haven't been writing on this here blog-o for a while, and I guess it's because recently I've felt that there was waaaay too much of me visible in the world. My job has me in contact with a ginormous section of the public, practically on display like a zoo animal some days. And on days that aren't quite like that, I've still got nowhere to hide. Feeling looked at and scrutinized and having every little thing I do be fair game for a conversation doesn't make me eager to come write about myself.
But, so, by way of an example and also to fill the vast hunger I'm sure there is for more stories about my experiences in the grocery store, this is a story from last week.
I've been going to a deli a few blocks from where I work this semester, about two days a week. I order the same thing every time I go, and it has gotten to the point where we can conduct the entire transaction without a single word being spoken. (We tell each other "thank you," because we're not, you know, four years old. But we technically wouldn't need to.) This is both nice, because I like not having to say much and being able to sit alone for an hour in the middle of the day, and kind of not nice, because it is the opposite of anonymity.
So, yeah, I'm standing in the grocery store checkout line and I see the three guys from the deli come walking in. They don't notice me right away, and really, even if they had, how much can I assume that they want to say hi to the weirdo who eats the same thing every day? So I did the thing where you become really interested in the process of your groceries being scanned. They walked past a few aisles over, and just when I thought I was out of the woods, I heard, "HEY VEGETARIAN NUMBER SIX NO CUCUMBERS, NO MAYO!" Which I couldn't help but recognize as my order. I have no idea what my face looked like when I turned to see where that had come from. When they saw that I'd looked over, they all laughed and slapped each others' backs.
So-o-o. What does that mean? Were they making fun of me? Was that affectionate?
Clearly I can't go back there.
But, so, by way of an example and also to fill the vast hunger I'm sure there is for more stories about my experiences in the grocery store, this is a story from last week.
I've been going to a deli a few blocks from where I work this semester, about two days a week. I order the same thing every time I go, and it has gotten to the point where we can conduct the entire transaction without a single word being spoken. (We tell each other "thank you," because we're not, you know, four years old. But we technically wouldn't need to.) This is both nice, because I like not having to say much and being able to sit alone for an hour in the middle of the day, and kind of not nice, because it is the opposite of anonymity.
So, yeah, I'm standing in the grocery store checkout line and I see the three guys from the deli come walking in. They don't notice me right away, and really, even if they had, how much can I assume that they want to say hi to the weirdo who eats the same thing every day? So I did the thing where you become really interested in the process of your groceries being scanned. They walked past a few aisles over, and just when I thought I was out of the woods, I heard, "HEY VEGETARIAN NUMBER SIX NO CUCUMBERS, NO MAYO!" Which I couldn't help but recognize as my order. I have no idea what my face looked like when I turned to see where that had come from. When they saw that I'd looked over, they all laughed and slapped each others' backs.
So-o-o. What does that mean? Were they making fun of me? Was that affectionate?
Clearly I can't go back there.
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