More than Groceries

I freely admit that, like many cyclists, I am a germophobe (or to use a real word, a verminophobe.) Last night was a recovery night, which also means that it was a night to get things done that get neglected while I'm on the bike. Grocery shopping was number one on the list.

I collected the cart full, headed to the emptiest checkout line, and started unloading. After it was way too late to pick another line, I realized the checkout girl was picking something else.

A tissue box sat near the register. She was sniffing with every other breath. The trash can under the counter was overflowing with used tissues. Warning bells started ringing in my head. "She has a cold!"

I watched in horror as she readied a stack of grocery bags. Nose wipe! Not the side-to-side wipe that deposits nastiness on the back of the hand, but the upward smoosh that leaves a trail on the palm that would be touching my groceries. Finger lick! The new grocery bags were apparently sticking together and her solution was to lick her thumb to get enough finger friction to separate them. Thumb pick! That quick movement to the nose, looking like it might be a relatively innocent scratch but at the last second becomes a thumb burried up the nostril with a quick flick on the way out just in case it made purchase and came out with something good.

I stood there in visceral anguish as I watched my groceries go by.

Cereal. Milk. Wipe. Turkey. Cheese. Pick. Yogurt. Crackers. Lick. Lick. Tomatoes. Pick. Yam. Lick. Grapes. Bananas. Wipe.

The experience climaxed with a big, wet blow into a tissue during the pause waiting for the receipt to print out. I could swear that when I took the slip of paper from her, it briefly stuck to her fingertips.

I unloaded the groceries at home and was sure I could see every bag, every box, every carton shiny with goo and crawling with little bugs.

I think I'll go shopping this weekend for gas masks, water, and canned food, pile it high within the walls of the old cistern in the basement, and wait for the next big flu strain to come through.