I stop at the grocery store on the way home because its convenience and it’s selection. The store caters to the budget conscious, the spend-thrift, and the luxist all under one roof. Granted, one does pay for such convenience but after a hard day, I try to justify the prices by telling myself that it’s hard earned and really “I can afford it”.

I picked up a fancy jar of indian spice paste, easily four times the price than that of an indian grocery. I mulled over it, thinking this is just an amalgam of ingredients that would otherwise cost me a dollar or two if I took the time to troll the aisles of the spice market and grid it myself. Not wanting to exert my conscience any further, I popped it into the cart, time is money and that curry has to be made.

Strolling around the store I picked up a few more items, one of which I am enjoying as I write this, a swiss chocolate bar filled with almond creme and pistachio. I then made my way to the check out. I loaded the conveyor belt and asked the cashier for a box of cigarettes. Handing over my ID, I look over to see that there’s a kid behind me somewhere between the age of 8 and 14 (all adolescents look the same to me), and I felt really shitty about buying tobacco in front of him, some role model I am.

As my items were scanned I noticed that the kid was alone, struggling to manage his grocery basket and his backpack as he placed his items on the conveyor belt. I saw that he buying simple foods. Not junk, but baked potato chips, a loaf of bakery bread, ramen noodles, and a 2-liter of soda; things that a starving college student would buy. Suddenly my over priced spices, fancy chocolate bar, and the bottle of Spanish cava made me feel dirty about my excesses.

What is this kid doing? Does he live alone? Where are his parents? Are his parents irresponsible junkies? Can I buy meth or weed from his parents? Why didn’t he have a frequent customer savings card?