The Height of Embarrassment

Being back on Atkins, I am the best friend the Cattleman’s Association ever had! There are days when I eat beef three separate times. As much as Helaine buys, we’re always running out. That was the case today.

So, on the way home from seeing a friend, I pulled into the Super Stop & Shop in Cheshire.

As I walked in I spotted a few people I know selling SnoKones to benefit Juvenile Diabetes. They asked if I lived in Cheshire? No – just passing through, getting meat.

Inside the store a woman came up to me and said hello. Do I live in Cheshire? No.

I said hello to a few more people, got my strip steaks and headed out… but not before stopping at the magazine rack. I’m thinking about a new camera and during the ‘salivation stage’ Popular Photography serves me in much the same way that Playboy serves 16 year old boys.

I threw the magazine high up under my arm so the binding reached all the way to my arm pit. In my hand was the precious steak. I walked to the checkout.

I go to the grocery store so infrequently that I’m sure I’m going to have a George H. W. Bush moment at some point – getting excited about something pedestrian to those who shop all the time.

An express checkout line was open, so with the magazine still firmly implanted, I began to self check. The meat went through the laser sensor with the attendant beep. On a touch screen pressed I pressed a button and began to fish for my wallet and credit card.

“Do you want to buy that magazine?”

The voice came from the end of the line where a uniformed Stop and Shop employee had been paying more attention than I had! I had done everything short of swiping my card when she noticed the magazine was about to be taken without being purchased.

At this point she didn’t recognize me, though she soon would. I was red faced. She said she understood – but I wondered if she really did.

In reality, I’m a very lucky guy. Thirty seconds later I would have been in the parking lot, officially a thief.

This kind of thing probably happens all the time, but that doesn’t make it any less distressing. Is this the first time I’ve absent mindedly walked away with something? I’ll never know. That’s even more distressing.