By Bob Comeans
I was standing right there, it was happening in front of me, and I missed out.
She didn’t have much. Probably just enough to get thru the next couple of days. The basics, for her, maybe a husband, and a kid or two. Half a cart full at the most.
It rang up to about thirty five bucks and change. No big deal. She spent a solid five-six minutes trying to write the check, get out her ID, and hand the whole package over to the cashier. She seemed rushed, unorganized, and just kind of frustrated about her day. Who knows, maybe her whole life. Continue reading