Entering the Whole Foods parking lot was a bit surreal. In front of the boarded over window, still unrepaired from last weeks vandalism, the crowd, a mix of professionals with their shiny, efficient cars, hipsters at the bike racks and an array of other various Oaklanders were beginning their Thanksgiving shopping. The lot was full so, seeing there was room, I went to go around a woman waiting for a space that was just about open so that I could park on the street. The woman, very sharp in her black hat and rimmed glasses, immediately turned her car into my path to block me, straining in the driver’s seat to mouth something to me, presumably thinking I was out to steal her space. I waited, disconcerted. While a small part of me got offended, I was more concerned that here was someone I didn’t know assuming the worst of me and I found myself fantasizing about leaving a note on her car explaining that my intention was purely to get out of the parking lot. It was a gorgeous day; so parking a block away on a side street and walking in the sun to get the weeks groceries was more of a pleasure than a burden.
My shopping cart filled to the brim with supplies for the holiday, I suddenly remembered something my daughter had asked for. Turning into the aisle, I was pleased to find exactly what I was looking for but it was blocked by a cart.
“Oh! I’m sorry. My cart’s in your way!” said the owner of the cart who had been engrossed in reading a label. She smiled.
“No problem at all,” I replied. “Hope you don’t mind if I move it!”
We both laughed and after a few more pleasantries we wished each other well and a happy Thanksgiving. The woman, dressed sharply in her chic black hat and rimmed glasses, gave me a smile and waved as I walked away. It wasn’t until I had turned the corner that the recognition set in….
Returning to my car was a tougher job than I had expected. The two shopping bags that I had carried with me into the Whole Foods had quickly become four, which meant I had to push the shopping cart a block with one hand while balancing a pecan pie in the other. To be honest, it wasn’t difficult to find the humor in my situation and I was kind of enjoying poking fun at myself. As I was unloading the last of the purchases into my car, I noticed a young man sauntering down the street in my direction. He was thin, baseball cap off to the side and huge pants that apparently defied gravity in their ability to stay off the ground considering his skinny frame. He wore the dull stare that youth get when they are out in the city and don’t want to show their cards. As he walked past me, I closed the door of my car and reached for my emptied cart, ready to take what now felt like the Gandhi salt march back to the store. At that point, the young man turned, his face softening at the edges, “Ma’am? If you like, I can take that back for you. I’m headed that direction anyway.”
“Thanks! That would be great!”
As he took my cart and headed off I called to him, “Hey!”. It felt like I needed to say more…
He turned.
“Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!”
He froze for a second. Then his face broke into a smile that looked like the a million watts.
“Yeah, you too!” he replied and we headed in our separate directions.