I stopped at the grocery store on my way home to pick up a couple of things from the deli so that my husband and I could have lunches for the next day.
When I arrived at the deli counter after being creeped out by the other shoppers staring at me, I had to wait. It appeared that the two women behind the counter were working (one was mopping and the other appeared to be using a complicated machine). So I patiently waited to be helped. Then I waited some more. Just when I was about to lose my patience another shopper arrived at the counter and waited behind me. Machine operating lady flew to the counter and barked for me to tell her what I wanted.
When I was walking away, I heard her sweetly greet the man behind me by his name. There’s one store in town and I typically visit the deli accompanied by my husband and we are always helped immediately and treated very well.
Brad, of course, had trouble believing the terrible service because he’s never seen it before. He grew up here and everyone’s always been nice.
I think they know that I’m not from the area.
It seems the best explanation because every time I go anywhere with Brad it’s fine. But when the outsider ventures around town alone things really seem to change. It sounds like the stuff you see in movies, but I seriously think that people in this small town can tell that I’m not from there.
Thankfully, we’re moving soon.