Kenny

I went to Kroger today-- my Kroger, not the one that might be closer but used to be a Harris Teeter and isn't organized like a Kroger and so I can't find anything there. My Kroger, where I know the people who work there. Like the woman in the meat department who once marked off $7 from a roast because I said I only bought meat on sale. Like Lem in the produce department who won't let me give Pook and Bug brown bananas to keep them happy while I shop, but insists on throwing out the spotted ones and getting them fresh new bananas instead. Like Gloria, who noticed that Bug started school this fall and didn't shop with me much anymore. And Kenny. Who just died of a massive heart attack at age 50. He knew everyone. There were signs and handouts all over the store for information about his service. I suspect it'll be full. I signed a guest book, but I'm feeling really down about this. I probably talk to these folks at Kroger more than I talk to the people I refer to as my friends. "Who are the people in your neighborhood, the people that you meet when you're walking down the street, the people that you meet each day?"