I didn't buy the brownies the first time I saw them because a glance at the ingredients list revealed they contained soy lechithin, and I am nothing if not an avid hater of the soybean industry.
The second time, I made an exception. After all, they're in a brown box. They say they're from the "Whole Foods Market." They are large and look delicious. And they do not contain corn syrup (I am nothing if not an avid hater of the corn industry).
It was an odds-and-ends day. I think I'd thrown a box of strawberries, some eggs, a few bottles of Pellegrino, and an enormous container of honey into the cart. No meal can be clearly deduced by studying the items in my cart. Which is something that often happen in the checkout line. "Making tacos?" a fellow with three-inch ear gauges will ask. I always feel inexplicably compelled to explain, no, it's chili, and the chicken is for pasta. Some checkers have enthused about their love of all meats, everywhere, and others have lifted the packages carefully by their corners and then promptly disinfected their hands with a couple squirts of antibacterial gel. I assume many vegetarians work here.
Brownie day there was a new checker I hadn't met before. Mainly, I'm just relieved when I don't get the shouty checker who shouts at me DID YOU FIND EVERYTHING YOU'RE LOOKING FOR and then shoves my receipt in my face without further ado.
New checker was quiet until he got to the brownies and then he held the box close to his face and remarked on the price -- $5.99. For four brownies. Large though they may be. "Gimme a break," he says. "You've got to really be in a bad way for brownies," I explain, without shame.
This entry has all the makings of an Erin-story -- the kind of story that anticlimaxes and people say: "And then?" But there's no "and then." Just, the guy thought I was paying too much for brownies, and although he was right, I bought them anyway, and actually? They were delicious.