C-Town

This morning, in a classic procrastinatory move, I went out in the rain, sans umbrella, galoshes, or even glasses, to nose about the neighborhood. I met up with two smiley mailmen at the mailbox and picked up a latte at my little now-competing-with-starbucks coffee shop across the street. But the major event was going to C-Town (it sounds like a euphemism, I know, but isn't), my smelly neighborhood grocery store. I've been in my house a lot in the past week, and sometimes when that happens I forget how to act in public--on this particular instance, all wet from the rain and blind from the forgotten glasses, I stood in the dairy aisle, scanning and scanning the cheeses, whispering "goooooooooooat. gooooooooooooooat."

It turns out they'd moved the edible cheeses to another aisle entirely.

Unrelatedly, the woman in front of me bought (in order of my noticing):

• about 10 doublewide boxes of english muffins
• approximately 4 large bunches of fresh mint
• two bags of radishes
• one bag of what I think were kitty treats

And while Kentucky Derby Day, and mint juleps, are merely 8 days off, that mint won't still be good in 8 days. And the only other time I've seen anyone buy that many english muffins was at my parents' for a massive eggs benedict--but surely it's not possible that another enormous family has the same tradition. And the radishes? and kitty treats? Who IS this person?

I wish I worked at a grocery store. Constant speculation, all day long.

Just to be fair, here's what I bought:

• toliet paper (by the way, in England they call it "loo-paper," which sounds funny)
  
• yogurt
• goooooooooat cheese
• two small containers of red pepper hummus
• two bags of baby carrots

. . .