Salad

The other day I was in QFC getting stuff for salad because, well, I guess that’s what we’re supposed to eat for longevity. (Side bar: I’m not all in on longevity as a goal – but I’ll aim for it half-heartedly until something better comes along.). Anyway, there was this older-than-me woman who looked kind of grumpy, but not like she was always grumpy like the one lady in the FG. More like a nice lady, temporarily stricken by irritability, which I can totally relate to. I wanted to hear her back story, so I kept very mildly getting in her way and then saying, “oh, I’m sorry, am I in your way?” (I guess that’s kind of weird now that I type it out. I wasn’t trying be passive aggressive or provoking but it seemed like the best way to strike up a conversation. (I know, I could probably just say hi but I was feeling a little shy.) Anyway, after three or four of these she actually looked at me and I asked if she was doing okay and she said, in a very tired voice, that she wished there were a better selection of organic produce. I concurred, and then asked my real question, which is, “Do you have any thoughts on what should I have for dinner tonight?” Because she seemed like someone who would know. She had a list and a plan and maybe I could just draft on her organization. But she just looked at me and said, “You could have pizza. Get it delivered right to your house.” I thanked her and then tried to avoid her for the rest of shopping time. I’m not sure why I’m posting about this little tiny thing.