Shopping for groceries, bipartisan style
It's been a little hard to get groceries lately, what with the coronavirus hoax still abroad in the land of the free. Still, no matter how many the hoax kills, I have to go to work, and I have to go to the grocery store.
After retiring from the newspaper business, I took a job doing talk radio. Imagine my surprise when I was declared an "essential employee."
So, after leaving work one afternoon, I pulled into the parking lot of a local grocery store, slipped my mask over my snout and headed in to buy a couple of things.
In the cat food aisle, I stepped aside for an old Republican woman, letting her get at the kitty litter. In the frozen food aisle, I stood patiently six feet behind an old Democratic voter who was buying five servings of frozen macaroni and cheese.
The store was out of democratic toilet paper, but they had socialist paper towels. And the meat counter offered plenty of communist hot dogs.
I was rolling, moving fast past the progressive cans of chicken soup, dodging a feminist who was restocking the shelf of canned chili.
I got to the cash register panting, having barely survived so many encounters with so much politics.
From behind the plexiglass screen, the Republican checkout guy rang up my purchases, and my items were bagged by a pro-life bag person who was just beginning to question her gender.
The right-wing automatic door slid soundlessly open, and I walked out into the pro-gun parking lot and headed for my car.
"How is it in there?" an evangelical Christian said to me as she approached the door.