more supermarket thoughts

Half my plans were cancelled today (boo!), so instead of spending my early afternoon doing something fun, I decided to spend it doing something useful. The most crucial useful thing that I needed to do was go to the post office since I was completely out of stamps. But since the post office is half way to Stop & Shop, I decided to go there too and get a few things I wanted. (Not needed, wanted.)

Well. The supermarket was not inordinately crowded, but there were not enough lines open, so they were all backing up. And the first thing that I must tell you all about was that the woman in front of me in line, just as she was about to start unloading her cart, took a look at me and said, "Oh, you've only got a few things. Why don't you go ahead of me?" I haven't seen anyone do that in living memory, never mind have it happen to me. (But you can bet I will be looking for an opportunity to pay that forward now!) So, thank you again, kind woman in the Stop & Shop!

Secondly, being thus moved up in line, I found myself behind an immigrant woman and her three little children. And she was using up all her WIC coupons, buying lots and lots and lots of condensed milk, cans of juice, peanut butter, etc. (Is it still WIC or have they changed the name of it like food stamps? I dunno, I am out of the loop.) Now, if you are blissfully unaware of how this works, not only can she only get certain items, but only certain amounts and combinations of items for each coupon--such that, for example, the cashier who had to very carefully check all this, had to let her know that she had one too many jars of peanut butter, but she could get an additional carton of eggs and did she want that? This turns what should be a simple five minute transaction into one that takes three times as long.

And as I stood there behind her, I wondered if there were any way they could possibly make this a *more* humiliating experience. Not just the oh, Poor Person, obviously you are too stupid and lazy to properly feed your kids without us telling you what you must get--which frankly I understand is set up to benefit agribusiness more than it is the real nutritional needs of growing children. But rather in making this such an incredibly time-consuming and tedious bit of business, you can guarantee the the woman using those WIC coupons is going to be subject to the judgment and grumbling and resentment of all the other patrons, including those who know better. Like me.

The fact that it took fifteen minutes for this woman to check out was not her fault. Nor was it the cashier's. (The cashier, indeed, a little high school girl, was as efficient and conscientious with this as could be, and actually very kind, showing the woman's oldest son the egg carton when he was going to run back into the aisle to get another one: "See, honey, it has to look just like this one. It has to say 'large', see?") And it certainly wasn't those little children's. But as I stood there, trying really hard not to get impatient (having skipped ahead in line and all) I couldn't help but notice the woman had a fake LV bag and think, "well, yeah, it must be fake, of course." But so what if it wasn't? What if someone gave it to her as a gift? What if she found it ridiculously cheap at a consignment shop run by morons? Why would it be my business if she had WIC coupons and a real designer bag?

I certainly don't believe that in one of the richest countries in the world someone should have to be absolutely destitute to get help. You remember how chagrined I was when D was turned down for SSI simply for having a small amount of savings in the bank and some savings bonds. When an unemployed friend recently discussed applying for food stamps with me, and told me that the last time she was unemployed she was turned down for having some money in an IRA, I was flabbergasted, and encouraged her to try for it again this time. Hell, when I was a small child and there was no such thing as food stamps, my beloved little widowed Polish grandmother got the gov'mint cheese and so forth. I don't see anything wrong with that, even though strictly speaking she was in no danger of starving, my parents obviously being willing and fairly able to help her.

So, no. Even if this woman *did* have a nice handbag through one circumstance or another, I don't think she ought to have to sell it to buy her kids peanut butter. Standing there with my fucking $7 worth of calamata olives and the expensive cat food (because Evil Kitty turns her nose up at the cheap shit) I have no basis or right to judge. I *do* think the government ought to be helping poor women with little kids before they give tax breaks to people like me with fairly good jobs and calamata olive habits so that we can buy new sofas sooner rather than later. I do believe that. And yet I have uncharitable thoughts as I stand there endlessly in the grocery line that's not moving.

It shouldn't be that hard. It shouldn't be so humiliating. There shouldn't be any way that the person behind you in the Stop & Shop line knows how you are paying for your groceries, never mind have a chance to judge you for it. That's what I think.

xoxo