To the guy at the grocery store...

While I am not a mind reader, I am an expert in reading nonverbals, so don't think looking away quickly excuses you. I saw the looks, the rolled eyes, & the grimace. I cannot be positive as to if your complaint was the electric cart I was sitting in or the multiple cards used to pay for our groceries, so I'll address both. 

Firstly, the cart. I don't want to be in this cart. I want to walk freely behind a buggie, so that I can maneuver through the crowds of people, instead of being trapped behind people. I want to be able to decide how quickly I walk, instead of moving at a snails pace in this cart. (Although I have been reassured by my husband that the cart moves more quickly than I do, even on a good day.) I want to be able to grocery shop by myself, instead of bringing children who cannot anticipate my move and often get run over or a husband who is exhausted from his 60 hr work week. You see, I have fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, and degenerative disc disease--all genetic, all life-changing and all cause limited mobility--so I am doing the best I can, in this stupid electric cart and could do without your judge mental states. 

As for the debit cards... I'm sorry that my use of multiple cards frustrates you. Here's the thing... While you were unloading your grocery basket full of groceries and pulling out your single card, I was frantically calculating the funds available, as the cost of 2 days worth of meals crossed the scanner. You see, those same ailments that require me to ride in this damn electric cart, also require me to be on thousands of dollars of medication and limit my ability to work a full-time job. My husband works his ass off, but like so many people, we live paycheck to paycheck and the last week of every month is always a stretch. Add to that the fact that child support hasn't come this week and frankly, is never regular enough to be counted on. So what you saw tonight was me using what little was left from child support last week, what was leftover from my makeup sales, and what was in my checking account, to buy my carefully selected groceries. Groceries that will last a couple of days, and aren't especially what the children want to eat, but were on sale. 

You probably will never see this post and maybe I misread your stares, but I cannot unsee the loathing in your eyes and you aren't the first to cross those lines. Tonight, I respond with writing, because I found myself to be speechless in the store.