Essential Manners for Grocery Shopping on a Tuesday Morning by A. M. Strohman

1. People should be courteous. Say please. Thank you. Excuse me. Smile at babies, like that one in the stroller by the cheese counter. Two little lower front teeth. Wide brown eyes. Mouth an adorable round O.
2. People should not leave their carts in the aisles unattended. Especially without leaving room for others to maneuver around. It’s like an obstacle course over here in wine.
3. People shouldn’t get too close. Yes, I am buying wine. No, I don’t want you to touch my swollen belly.
4. People shouldn’t wear looks of pity while picking out a good Chardonnay. I’m fine. Really. I’m fine. I’m just trying to get my groceries like everybody else.
5. People shouldn’t stay so far away—corollary to number 1. I may look a bit of a mess, but I’m not so much a mess that that man in the green sweater needs to stay at the other end of the deli pretending to look at prosciutto.
6. People should learn how to pick out produce. Look. That old man over there. With the crooked collar and the mismatched socks. He’s hunting over the cantaloupes thumping them like they’re watermelons. I think about going over, playing a scene, pressing the belly button end of the melon to feel the perfect give and yodeling, ‘See? This one is perfect.’ Then setting it in my cart for a moment before placing it on the stack right next to him and whispering, ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ Even just looking at the belly button of the melon makes me think of umbilical cords.
7. People should show a little gratitude. When I finally do screw up my courage and do the melon trick, the old man just peers at me and grunts, then goes on thumping melons.
8. People should control their kids. Two preschoolers nearly knock me over in the cereal aisle. Where is their mom? (Or dad, so as not to be sexist, or parent, so as not to be genderist—is that a word?—possibly even a nanny. But odds are, kids running rampant in the cereal aisle on a Tuesday morning are accompanied by a harried mother. They’re not all harried, I guess. I wish I could be harried and have a good reason.)
9. People shouldn’t be so obsequious. I was right. A harried mom. Toddler in the cart’s seat, digging into a purse and chewing on keys. Cart piled high with organic everything. Lots of apologizing ensues. ‘Really, I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Your kids are terrors who are also adorable. I’m not a monster.’ I give a little laugh. She echoes. Then she asks when I am due.
10. People shouldn’t call the store manager when all that’s happening is a grown woman is sitting in the middle of the cereal aisle crying. It’s just not necessary.
11. People shouldn’t ask over and over again if there’s someone they can call for you. There is. But he’s at work, and he can only handle so many calls like this a week before his amber eyes shift from worry to pity to disgust. And I’m having a hard time with the worried look.
12. People should know that eventually the tears will dry up, the snot on sweater sleeves will harden, I’ll feel the muscles in my legs stabilizing. The cart will provide all the support I need to wander through the aisles until I feel the list in my pocket and know the next thing I have to do. Peanut butter. Laundry detergent. Soap. Extra-large absorbing pads. Ice cream, where I will stand at the freezer holding the door open too long, trying to decide between fudge and snickerdoodle.

A. M. Strohman holds an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she works as a freelance writer and editor. You can find A. M. at @amstrwriter and www.amstrohman.com.

Photo by Nathália Rosa on Unsplash.