OK, time for some levity. I have a bone to pick, and it involves nosy clerks at the grocery store. I suppose this one can be filed under the same category as the embarrassment one might feel (though oddly enough I generally don’t) to have to get tampons rung up by a male cashier, or (gasp!) if you’re a MAN having to buy your sweetie her feminine protection supplies.
Sad but true, there have been those times — more times than I care to remember, when this hungry dieter has decided that she didn’t want another dinner of fat-free Boca Burgers and bag-o-steamed veggies, she wanted cake (dammit). Or cookies. Or brownies. Or some really good, soft, chewy bagels with honey nut flavored cream cheese. Granted, lately I’ve been working on turning to less damaging choices — foods that may or may not be part of my diet, but at least aren’t so calorie-packed so as to necessitate numerous days of extreme “fitness atonement” to undo the aftermath. But this rant is about those instances in which I’ve caved in to the “to heck with 100-calorie packs and fat-free this or that, I want the REAL stuff” urge, and set out to the grocery store, where their bakery section is head-spinning; “over the top” doesn’t even begin to describe it. So insane is the selection there, it makes me wonder if this is part of the reason it’s so tough to give up such foods. If the local grocer had only a “meh” selection of baked goods, would I find myself so enticed? I don’t believe so. I think of the grocery store, for example, near our vacation home. They have nowhere NEAR the fantasy creations we have in our home town (I never even CONCEIVED of a peanut butter turtle fudge brownie cream pie until it made its appearance in their refrigerator case!), only the rather run-of-the-mill apple pies, chocolate chip cookies, and blueberry muffins you’ll find just about anywhere. And not once do I feel tempted to explore those offerings when staying at that house (and it’s not like I never strayed from my normal eating while there).
Anyway, getting back to my story. I’m sure some of you can relate to this even if you don’t have an eating disorder. There are times in which you’re buying or ordering or eating decadent food, when you just don’t want to have lots of attention drawn to you. I’m better than I used to be, but there’s still a fair amount of sensitivity in me regarding people watching/commenting on my eating. Which means there’s always some anxiety (guilt?) involved when I have decided to do a big-time cheat on cake with massive twirls of whipped cream frosting, or those frisbee-sized chocolate-macademia chip cookies, or some other eye-poppingly rich treat. This makes for a strange dichotomy of emotions as I stroll the aisles of the store; on one hand, I find myself feeling a certain relief, partly due to the mouth-watering anticipation of the treat ahead. At the same time, I’m feeling dread, mostly for the likely upset stomach that will follow, but also even for when I have to get rung up at the register. Why? Because inevitably, the cashier will say something about it. “Wow!!! This looks tasty!” or “Heh, heh, this sure doesn’t look low-calorie!” usually followed by, “What’s the occasion?” Maybe this doesn’t seem so bad, but at that moment, when all I want to do is pay for my guilty pleasure and be on my way, the last thing I want is to have the spotlight cast on me and my wayward purchase. But moreover, what I find rather annoying about this otherwise innocent exchange (and I’ve been in line often enough to confidently confirm this), is that the cashiers never seem to make such comments to anyone else. And while I realize it’s not very PC of me to speculate on the following reason, considering that a majority of customers at the store I shop at are overweight, often significantly, I can’t help but wonder if the fact that my being thin has anything to do with it. If you’re overweight you may have a hard time realizing this, but thin people do experience their own reverse discrimination. People will readily make comments to us that they never would even *think* about saying to someone who is visibly overweight. So I have to ask myself, would a cashier dare to say something about my selection of fattening bakery goods if I were fat? My husband used to hear me rant about this, but assumed I was exaggerating at least a little bit. That is, until he began to accompany me more often on these grocery store runs. And sure enough, we watch customer after customer get rung up, often with the same kinds of items in their cart, and not a peep from the cashier. But along comes our items on the belt and suddenly it’s open season to inquire. God bless my husband, he’ll usually good-naturedly step in and say something like, “Yep, my favorite dessert.” But I still think it’s silly that he even has to do this. For pete’s sake, nothing I buy is new or unusual; you know these people see these items numerous times a day. What’s up with this need to make a remark about something the cashier sees all of the time?
Probably the funniest of these exchanges was when my husband and I were returning home following a concert. It was around 11pm on a Saturday night, and we still felt hyper, so decided to watch a DVD movie once home. We also decided that, after a couple of weeks of clean eating, we both wanted a late night snack, and not just the usual light microwave popcorn. We stopped at a different grocery store than usual (due to it being en route from the concert venue), but all they really had was a selection of birthday cakes — you know the kind: round, with that icky-sweet buttercream frosting, and colored trim and either balloons or flowers on the top, with the words “Happy Birthday” scrolled on the top. The kind we have all seen a million times. Reluctantly, we picked one up, hoping it wouldn’t be dry or overly sugary. We also grabbed a couple of other grocery items — we were out of fruit, needed some yogurt, etc. Maybe 8 items altogether. We made our way to the cashier, who rang us up while a another clerk bagged. “Oh! This looks good!” exclaimed the bagger as she lifted up the cake, turning it around as though inspecting it in detail. I thought it odd, especially since she said it as though it was the first time she’s ever seen a birthday cake. My husband and I chuckled in polite agreement. But she continued. “I’ll bet it tastes good.” We continue to nod. But she still wasn’t done. “What are you buying it for?” At the time, I had never been asked such a question by a cashier, no less about a basic birthday cake. What the f***? What does she think it’s for? Before I could come up with an answer, my husband swept in with a ready reply: “It’s my brother’s birthday” (the first of many times he would use that line). Once in the car, we couldn’t help but shake our heads. What are we buying it for???? Who asks this of a basic birthday cake? Or any food item, for that matter? For starters, what’s it to them? Moreover, why do we owe them an answer? Mind you, we both hate to be at all impolite or confrontational, so we’ll always humor the person and play along nonchalantly. But I still find it annoying. I’ll happily chat with the cashier about ANYTHING, but please, mind your own business and stop asking me about my grocery selections! My husband joked that the next time I’m asked, a quick way to end any further probing would be for me to say, “I’m going to feast on this to my heart’s content when I get home, then spend the next three days exercising and eating carrots to work off the calories. Why do you ask?” But yeah right, like I’m going to say that. But it would be interesting to see the reaction!
Rant over….Add this to the stockpile of reasons why I just as soon would like to do away with this behavior!
Recovering Part-time Bulimic 