… enter a grocery store and pick up some milk. And had a very nice conversation with a gentleman with a “Waste Management” t-shirt whose accent indicated that he originated way north of the “Sweet Tea Line”* about the different types of flavored coffee creamer that are available. Sweet Daughter selected some discounted Easter stickers to buy with her allowance and only fussed when she realized that I carry her on the same side as my pistol (uncomfortable for her), and so insisted on riding in a cart. The rather flamboyant cashier with the multi-colored star tattoos on his neck and the multiple facial piercings didn’t even bat an eye. But then, I don’t think I was his type.
I just wonder how long it will be until I have the guts to do this while shopping for shoes or clothes in the city.
*The Mason-Dixon line has nothing to do with where the South begins. When you go to your localnon-chain eatery and ask for sweetea (all one word) and they don’t bring regular iced tea and sugar packets, but have a separate pitcher of tea-flavored simple-syrup, you know you’re in the south. I was in a restaurant near Annapolis and asked for sweet tea. I was informed that they didn’t have any, but they had regular tea and sugar. “That’s not a solution” I said. “That’s a precipitate.”
I’m such a geek.
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