Did you know that, according to the Massachusetts Department of Fire Services, fireworks (sparklers included!) are "neither sane nor safe?" I do. Did you know that supermarkets in Massachusetts don't sell alcohol? I do (there are a few exceptional Trader Joe's). Which is why I got up early on Saturday morning to cross the border into New Hampshire, where I purchased both sparklers and wine. (There's a liquor store right in town where I picked up my beer, but their wine selection is actually smaller than that of the Nashua supermarket). And since my dad's church is based in Nashua, as I strolled the supermarket aisles with a bottle in each hand (one was non-alcoholic sparkling cider!) I had only one prayer: Lord, don't let me bump into anyone I know. And I avoided the gaze of every Asian I saw.
All in all, the trip was a tense and emotional roller coaster. At checkout, I had my ID and credit card out, ready to transact and run. But even though I offered my ID, the cashier only asked to see my credit card while checking out. Which pleased me at first. Then amused me. Then troubled me. Do I look so old that I don't need to be ID'ed? Then that thought angered me. Then, finally, as she was about to hand me my receipt, she asked to see my ID. And I was relieved. Then annoyed, because I had already put it away. And I thought she was stupid.
What do you do with your Saturday mornings?
All in all, the trip was a tense and emotional roller coaster. At checkout, I had my ID and credit card out, ready to transact and run. But even though I offered my ID, the cashier only asked to see my credit card while checking out. Which pleased me at first. Then amused me. Then troubled me. Do I look so old that I don't need to be ID'ed? Then that thought angered me. Then, finally, as she was about to hand me my receipt, she asked to see my ID. And I was relieved. Then annoyed, because I had already put it away. And I thought she was stupid.
What do you do with your Saturday mornings?
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