to market, to market

Way way way way back when Aurora worked as a checker at Tom Thumb, I remember she came home and talked about how funny it was to see what people bought or the combination of items and what that said about them. I always think about that when I go to the grocery store. I beam proudly down at the rubber conveyor belt when I have a pile of whole grains, organic produce and yogurt. Surely this shows that I'm a well adjusted person. And I also feel like a total weirdo when, like this afternoon, I buy 4 limes and a cheese slicer. The larger part of the story is I did have a few normal items to buy 25 minutes earlier: milk, bread, cheese, tomatoes and chicken, which I bought. Then I got home, realized I forgot limes, drove to a different grocery store (yes, to avoid shame), bagged my limes and suddenly remembered that I broke the cheese slicer and needed to puruse the "Bake Time" aisle for a new one.
And that is how that happened.
I was also on the lookout for potential molesters on my two grocery trips. My afternoon of TV was all about molesters for some reason: news blurb before Dr. Phil, Oprah, and then the actual news. What I gathered from this afternoons stories is that the number one sign of a molester is bad hair. The guy in line in front of me with a toussled comb-over and the out-dated glasses, surely a molester. The checker who was a little too old to be a checker, fumbled nervously, and didn't smile, also a potential suspect.
My mantra: Beware, and be ready to kick the groin!