Monday, January 06, 2020

Seven O'Clock

There's a middle-aged black woman ahead in line at the grocery store, when another middle-aged black lady inserts her trolley between me and the checkout clerk.

She waits about 5 seconds before slowly looking my way.

"Oh. I got in front of you." she says. "I'm in your place."

"Yes you did." I say, because it is true. She did cut in front of me. "It is okay. Go ahead, take my place."

She stares at me, seeing if I am high or drunk. Then she looks at me like I have horns growing out of my head.

I don't tell her she could be anyone! A Buddha, and angel, a heavenly being in disguise in a grocery store, cutting in line. Or a middle-aged African American woman. Teaching patience, about letting go, living life as it is. Not needing to fight, or protect your turn in line.

As the line moves slowly, she stares at the woman in front to her. I don't know how God or the Universe works. I don't know why we are tested, or when I am being tested, or when I am not being tested. So I believe it can be at any time, with anyone, and I keep living that way the best I can.

She ignores me until she is checked out, and even after that she keeps her eye on me. I pretend to not notice her. I bag my groceries, and as I walk through the dark slushy parking lot, I hear someone like her in the background behind me, and she could be cursing someone out or spontaneously singing a hymn loudly to Jesus.

It all happens so fast sometime, when I turn and look, it must have been my imagination. Cars keep driving, people are smiling or frowning, at seven o'clock.


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Cub
Hopkins at Highway 7




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