personal narrative


Working at a supermarket leaves you with two choices: stick to yourself and be miserable or embrace the built-in community. The store might be the last place anyone wants to be, but sharing the hectic experience with each other makes it slightly more bearable. The friends I’ve made during my five years here range from my age — 20 — to 20 years my senior. Age is just a number until after work, when the older crew can be found purchasing craft beer, and I go for a diet peach Snapple.

My boyfriend says I’m cool because during Zoom meetings, I hike through the woods sporting my chestnut Ray-Ban sunglasses with the tops of the trees as my background. I don’t think much of it, other than that it’s my preferred environment. I like to move.