Tolerance and Grocery Shopping

In order to be a more tolerant person, 
I think I'm going to wait and do my grocery shopping on the eve of Christmas Eve,
I'll do it at the biggest, the most crowded, HEB or Wal-Mart around.

This merry grocery gauntlet will test my mettle in almost every way. 
I will compete with hordes of hungry procrastinators and foolish planners. 
And I will suffer them all. 
I will be patient with them as we move, 
like zombies, or like cattle, down the aisles.
 
I will forgive those who trespass against me, 
for they have forgotten the etiquettes of traffic, 
as they travel with their carts half full, and their children fully irritated, 
down the wrong side of the aisle,
glaring at me like I'm the jackass in the way.
 
And then, inevitably, 
whenever I feel that bit of cynicism that exists in us all - 
that humanity is irredeemable, 
that life is a futile circus of charades... 
I'll pause to take it all in,
and I'll shrug and laugh. 
What's the next thing on my list? 

Two hours later, plus thirty minutes in line, I'll give my bounty to the pour souls trapped behind the cash registers and grocery bags. 
I will smile at them and wish them a Merry Christmas. 
They will say the same, but their eyes will be pleading.

Thus, with my cart full, my list marked off,
I will emerge from HEB,
a stronger and more forgiving man.


...

Life may be a circus of charades .. or it may not be. 
But I know one thing. 
It is far from futile. 
Because I checked off everything on my list.


.
.
.

...except the rolls... 
son of a god-dammit it all to hell, 
I forgot the fucking rolls. 
....You know what, screw it. 
We're eating rolled up wonder bread and calling them rolls.
Such is life. 

12.22.15
M. L. Michael

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