My New Grocery Store

Sat morning found me shuffling into the grocery store just down the street from us, in need of cold medicine. And unlike the commercial, none of the boxes greeted me, and told me they were MY Robitussin.
Maybe that only happens after you drink a whole bottle. (Which I might add, after spending my weekend in a Robitussin-induced coma, really does NOT sound like fun. I know it's all the rage with the kids, but I fail to see the appeal. After taking just the regular dose, I felt like someone had hung weights from every available point on my body, and I yawned so hard it HURT. Apparently, I cannot hold my 'tussin.)

But while the Robitussin did not greet me, everyone else in the store did. You know how in dream sequences, were people imagine they're in heaven, and everyone greets them with a benevolant smile and warm words? It was like that, except they didn't know my name.

The florist, the butcher, the stockboys, everyone called out a hello like we were old friends.
It was creepy as hell, but also nice.