Trader Joe's
Trader Joe’s feels like a competition for oxygen and space. It feels claustrophobic.
Carts press in. People talk over each other. Cashiers move fast. The line to pay is way too long.
If you hesitate, you’re in the way. It feels like you are always in somebody’s way, no matter what you do.
If you don’t speak up, you don’t get heard.
I rehearse what I’ll say at checkout like it’s an audition:
“Hi.”
“Yes.”
“I brought my own bag.”
“Thank you.”
It seems small. It isn’t.
If I leave, I reinforce the idea that crowded places aren’t my thing.
If I stay, I risk embarrassment. Not being heard. Feeling awkward.
It’s easy to disappear in the city and there are ways to avoid people and talking.