My Groceries, Myself

Nine p.m. groceries: different from Sunday afternoon groceries. It's personal and it's just goofy. Everyone in line at New Seasons is who you'd see there on Sundays getting their Nancy's yogurts and heirloom apples - white, middle class, thirties, vaguely outdoorsy or creative, locavores. Here is what we are buying. The guy in front of me: fruity pebbles and a gallon of milk. The guy behind me: soppressata. Me: tube of Pillsbury cookie dough, tea, dried cranberries. Yeah, I don't know either.