Oh Lord

For the first time ever, I was made to feel conspicuous buying a bottle of white wine.

No matter that it's a bottle of wine that I am buying to make my Mom a heart-healthy chicken dinner tonight (my Uncle joked with me after I told him it was "for the chicken," to which he responded, "what? are you gonna get 'em drunk before you kill 'em?"), when I first asked the Kroger's checker where to find wine, she looked me up and down and then slowly told me which aisle. An aisle? Try and end-cap of wine (bad wine) and that was IT. When I went to check out, a different checker helped me and, again, looked at me over his glasses before he scanned that bottle. I forget sometimes how out-of-place I am here. No one goes to bars or cooks with wine, let alone DRINKS wine, here. Only here would I feel conspicuous for not only buying wine, but also have a nose piercing, wearing cuffed jeans and converse, and wearing a "deathcake royale" cupcake t-shirt. I stand out like a sore thumb.

To top it off, I was at WalMart with my Mom, picking up her bazillionth prescription, and there was a woman behind me in line with a t-shirt that had a confederate flag on it, and under the flag read: "It's a White thing, You wouldn't understand!"

It's time to go home.