Judgment Day

[Trigger warning for body policing.]

So, Iain and I are at the grocery store yesterday, and we're parked in an aisle with our cart, strategizing about who's going to go where to find the last couple of things on our list so we can get the heck outta there. It was one of those "Shit, we're out of everything!" weeks, and it felt like we'd already been shopping for nine hours.

As we're talking, a woman walks by, pushing her cart in the opposite direction. She's dressed in yellow, head-to-toe: A yellow hat, yellow shirt, yellow tracksuit, and yellow sneakers. Even yellow eyeshadow. It could have been for Halloween, or it could have been because she's A Character. I couldn't tell.

Anyway, as she passes, she leans toward me and says: "I never want to see you again because your boobs are sexier than mine!" Then just keeps walking.

Iain and I just looked at each other, like, "WTF? Did that just happen?"

It was one of those "I hate you" comments that was meant to be (sort of) a compliment...? But I felt rather less complimented than totally discombobulated.

And immediately, unshakably, body-conscious in a way I had not been moments before.

* * *

Walking down another aisle, I heard a father tell his son, who wanted to buy a box of some kind of individually-wrapped sweet cakes, the sort that lots of kids get in their lunchboxes: "Put that back. Only bad people eat that shit."

* * *

Standing in the checkout line, there was a woman in front of me. I don't make it a habit to pay attention to what other people are buying, because, frankly, I've no interest or inclination to judge other people's choices and I don't give a shit. So when she said, "This isn't all for me," my response was, "Pardon me?"

She held up two huge packages of ground beef. "This isn't all for me," she said. "I'm not going to eat all of it myself. I've got four boys at home."

"Oh," I said. "Okay." She was still looking at me, rather anxiously. "That sounds like a lot of work," I offered.

She nodded. "It is. And they eat a lot."

"I bet," I replied. I smiled at her.

Iain joined me in the line then, and she turned back around, this tiny woman who felt obliged to assure me she wasn't going to eat 10 pounds of ground beef on her own. Maybe because she really was, and maybe because she really wasn't. As if it were any of my business either way.

* * *

I just wanted to grab the nearest intercom: "Attention Shoppers: This is now a judgment-free zone. We're all going to get through grocery shopping without its being a series of mini-morality plays. Buy what you want. Let everyone else buy what they want. Keep your eyes on your own cart. Experience the joy of shame-free shopping! Thank you and have a nice day."