The difference between 19 and Now

I’m at Costco. There are two girls roaming the same aisles that I am. Sharing a cart, they are both wearing the same outfit: blond hair pulled back in messy ponytails, snug boot-cut jeans, black sneakers, and oversized red t-shirts printed with a tagline which indicates that they work at a local steakhouse. It’s Costco, and they seem a little perplexed as to how the whole place is laid out, so I assume they’re on a supply run for the restaurant.

(shopping happens)

I wind up directly behind them at the checkout line. In my cart? Cheese, multi-grain bread, organic apples, Pirate’s Booty, and real-sugar Coke. In their cart? Oversized cinnamon buns, Froot Loops, Cocoa Krispies, chocolate chip cookie dough, Chex Mix, pickles, frozen burritos, and a roasted chicken. Obviously, they’re roommates. Also obviously, they are just learning how to shop for themselves, and they are having a ball with it.

I raise my cereal bowl in a toast to these two young women. May we all occasionally remember to treat ourselves to some crap.



Filed under food, friends, nostalgia, shopping, trans-fatty acids

6 responses to “The difference between 19 and Now

  1. e

    I want EVERYTHING in their cart. I’m in the mood for a total crap fest. >:)

  2. Actually, one thought that briefly crossed my mind was, “Are they BOTH pregnant?” Then I remembered what 19 was like. :)

  3. If and when we did eat at home when my roomie and I were 19 it was either cereal or hamburger helper. My how times have changed…for me that is. Basically the time space continuum stays the same, we all just pass through it and act according to where we are in time. Weird.

  4. Marge

    Nineteen. Yeah, I was so broke that it was ramen noodles and can soup for me. Now? Still broke, but eating crap that at least has some whole grain and vitamins.

    Later this week my seventeen yo house sitter will be here and I will of course stock the fridge with soda, hostess cupcakes and TV dinners.

  5. Drewseph

    Yup, that sounds familiar.

    I’m unsure as to whether or not I should be ashamed.

  6. This story reminds me of that very strange feeling the first time I bought beer and put it in my fridge at home. I stood there looking inside the fridge, wasting gobs of electricity as the cold air poured out, trying to wrap my mind around the notion that I could have a beer any time I wanted… right from my very own fridge.

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