The first thing I got was some bacon…followed by some chicken fillets, and whole chicken and some zucchini. The zucchini was actually on the other side of the store, but since it came to me, I left the basket right where it was and went in search of the vegetable. On the way, I noticed that I some light bulbs and remembered that I needed one for Ana’s room so first I stopped and spent some time choosing which one was best. Light bulbs are changing a lot these days. They used to be a pretty much straightforward purchase, but that was no longer the case. Now they came in all shapes and purposes. Many touted the immense amount of energy and money I would save by using them, and also indicated that they were so resilient that basically I would not have to replace them for the rest of my life. That was quite a long-term decision I would have to come with in aisle three. I managed to handle it, choosing one that hinted of modernity but without overstating the issue. Those curly-cue ones don’t fit with the nature of my home.
I had basket back with the whole chickens, something I did with frequency because no on likes to be chained to their food cart. I roam more freely without them. But it also meant that my incursions into other sections of the store would always be limited. My daughters always slap their foreheads when they see me do this and they trail behind me frantically saying, “Papi, stop leaving your basket around. You’re crazy.” But who was going to steal my food?
Anyway, once I had the light bulb in my hand, I had to pause and think about just what had brought me to that place in the universe. I had reached there with something else in mind, and it was something to stick in a socket. For a while I worried about these memory lapses feeling they were suggestive of something that would end up with me in underwear and in the middle of a vineyard with La Mancha with a pencil case and some gerbil food in my hand and not really knowing what was going on, but apparently that is not a problem. Recalling why you are wandering in a supermarket shouldn’t concern you. It’s when you ask yourself, “What is a supermarket for?” or even worse “What is this place?” that you should begin to run your fingers through the private medical insurance directory. Thankfully, I hadn’t reached that point yet.
After a concerted mental effort, I remembered my immediate purpose in life.
