So, I work at a grocery store. This gives me ample time to interact and observe the public, which is one of my favorite things to get paid for. Until moving to Seattle, all my jobs were in rural Missouri. Most of the customers I dealt with were blue collar workers who didn’t want a fuss and just wanted some fried chicken or Pabst Blue Ribbon (two of my jobs: KFC and a gas station). Others just wanted a burger and some friendly small talk (another of my jobs: Hardee’s). Some will be offended if your small talk is not as over-the-top and will yell before driving away from the drive-thru window, “I’m just a happy-go-lucky mother fucker!”

I could say a lot more about my memorable customers, like the man who wore a Def Leppard belly shirt and very short shorts (both cut to be that way) with lace up work boots, or the woman who smelled so bad that I knew she was in the store before I even saw her and when she left her smell lingered for a good hour or two.

But I won’t get into that.

I wrote a few days ago that my job was wholly unsatisfying, but I’m finding my job far more satisfying now that I’m able to interact with the public instead of training and setting up the store for its grand opening. I like the variety I see each day. While working with the public can be tiring and frustrating, even the bad seeds will give me a good story. I think maybe this is why teaching at the university was not so satisfying to me; there’s some diversity, but for the most part, students are very predictable. Most of them are about the same age; most of them have similar goals. I have plenty of student stories, and I’ve made some good friends through that brief career stint, but the “bad seed student stories” don’t amuse me, they just raise my blood pressure. That’s the difference. Plus, I have issues with the academic world and its politics–but I also won’t get into that.

Anyway, the grocery store where I now work is wedged between two of the richest neighborhoods in the city. This grocery store is also known for catering largely to a foodie and health-conscious crowd. Needless to say, the crowd is a little different than the crowd I served in Missouri.

Yesterday I overheard a conversation between a fairly young couple. They had their 2 or 3 year old daughter with them. The man mentioned that their daughter liked to eat nori. In fact, she had some crumbled over her eggs that morning for breakfast. The woman replied, “How very Japanese of you, Charlotte!”

There’s not really a point to this except that this sort of conversation is a lot different than, “Could you watch my buffet plate while I run home real quick? I done left my dentures there!”