Don’t Speak To Me In The Grocery Line.

Okay, I’m just going to put this out there for the universe to know. It’s not that I’m mean or unfriendly or a snob. But I’m what you’d call a sometimes-I-just-want-to-be-left-alone kind of girl. I consider myself an introverted extrovert. Sure, I like to attend social events and chat and be silly with my friends, but after that, I really just want to go home and be left alone.

And that, my Sweet Potatoes, is exactly why I don’t want to start a conversation while I’m standing on (in?) the line at the grocery store. All I want to do is quietly stand in my line and have my mind travel to a million different places while I simultaneously wonder why the cashier’s left eyelash is falling off. And does she know it’s falling off? If she does, why isn’t she fixing it? And if she doesn’t, how can she not? I mean, it’s right there. It has to be blocking the view from her left eye. Can she even see what she’s doing? Can she count the right amount of change with no vision in her left eye? I guess it’s fine if I pay with my card instead.

But even then, what if she scans an item twice and fails to see that she did that? I suppose that the double beep sound of the scanner would let her know. Wait. What if, just like her left eye, her left ear is also not operating at its fullest potential? There could be too much wax in there, so she wouldn’t be able to hear well. And I wouldn’t expect her to know because someone who does not know that her eyelash is falling off certainly won’t know that she has a deafening amount of wax in her ear. But then again, it has not been established that she does not know of the falling lash. God, it’s really bothering me.

Wait. What if, just like her left eye, her left ear is also not operating at its fullest potential? There could be too much wax in there, so she wouldn’t be able to hear well. And I wouldn’t expect her to know because someone who does not know that her eyelash is falling off certainly won’t know that she has a deafening amount of wax in her ear. But then again, it has not been established that she does not know of the falling lash. God, it’s really bothering me.

And this, my people, is how my mind wanders while I’m standing in line — which is exactly why I don’t want you to start up a conversation with me about the flavor of my yogurt or the scent of my Glade air freshener. Just don’t do it, please. And please don’t tell me about the yogurt you used to love that got discontinued and how you have been searching the entire world for a new favorite. I. DON’T. CARE. Leave me be. I’ve got falling eyelashes to think of. Very important stuff. And for some reason, there must be something about my face that makes people in lines think that I want to talk. Well, I don’t.