i'm all lost in the supermarket

there's an area near the supermarket check-out counters where all intelligence goes to pot. it's like the Bermuda Triangle for common sense and reason. even if you are not drawn into actually buying something off the shelves stocked with candy, magazines, tabloids, horiscopes, travel-size tissues, mini flashlights, Armoral wipes, giga pets, etc. you stare at the plethora of impulse buys with a sort of hypnotic interest. all of a sudden someone turns the volume down on everything and you find yourself thinking of times when a little can of Static Guard would be useful. or you can't take your eyes off the magazine featuring the most popular pregnant celebrities. who gives a rip if the older gentleman in front of you can't figure out which way to swipe his debit card? did you know you can get a bag of 100 straws for a dollar? the three-year-old twins screaming about gum in the cart behind you only draw your attention away for a moment, then it's back to a small plastic tub of gummi bears or the newest version of the Reeses peanut butter cup.

out of no where it's your turn to interact with the cashier. somehow all of your things have been placed on the conveyor belt and are now being scanned and bagged and pretty soon you're going to have to gather together enough brain power so you can figure out which way to swipe your own debit card. you reluctanly look away from the bold headline that reads, 'HUMAN MOTHER GIVES BIRTH TO ALLIGATOR BABY' and offer a shy 'hi there' to the cashier. like blood rushing to a limb that's fallen asleep, you slowly but surely become your regular self and the noise of the supermarket once again registers in your ears. the transaction is completed and soon you're off to the parking lot forgetting most, if not all of what was once your entire world...

and in the next visit to the supermarket you'll go through it again. almost every time.