Check This Out

I loaded up the groceries onto the conveyor belt today at Kroger after first laying down the dividing bar to separate my stuff from the items of the person in front of me who was currently being rung up, an older lady who reminded me a bit of my grandmother, who was busy chatting with the woman in front of *her* who had just finished checking out. Evidently they lived in the same retirement facility. Suddenly she noticed some pretzel rods in my pile of items on the belt and said, "Oh, pretzels! I wish I'd thought to get some" in a Midwest accent that reeked of Minnesota, but again it might have been memories of my grandmother flowing over. "You want mine?" I asked. "Oh, no.... no. Thank you though." "Okay" "Well... do you really not want them?" she countered. I mean, obviously I want them, that's why I pushed them around the grocery store in my cart for 30 minutes before loading them onto the conveyor belt, but what are you going to do when faced with gramma-polite-strong-arming? "No, I can get some more later," I said as I moved the pretzels from my side of the dividing bar to her side. As she exited the store she looked back at me one more time and said "you're so sweet" and poof she was gone. With my pretzels. I'd like to think that maybe once someone gave my grandmother their pretzels; it helps ease the pain while sitting here having to snack on stale corn chips.