"Once more I'm out, at one A.M., in some store trying to purchase bedding plants. The cashier woman says, "They're three for five dollars. You sure you need eight?"
I"m distracted, looking at this man behind me.
She ask, "You're sure you want to cut it off at eight?"
This guy behind me in the checkout lane is wearing a sweater vest and his arms bare. He's waiting with a hundred-dollar bill to pay for Twizzlers and a porterhouse steak.
Which leads me to look down at my own self.
"Do I know you?" he asks softly.
"No," I say, sighing. "Not in the way you mean." "
— Mary Robison