Items in hand I stood, waiting for one of the self-checkout stations to free up so I could pay and finish cooking dinner. I'd forgotten butter for corn-on-the-cob, which, you might as well not even bother without butter, in my opinion, and my mind was already back at home, not thinking about where I was or what I was doing at all.
So when the small older woman in front of me in line spoke to me, at first I didn't hear what she said, and asked her to repeat herself.
"You come to the grocery store when you're lonely, and you get the machines to talk to you," she said, a strained smile on her face.
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