"That Store"

There are certain stores that Ago only goes to with me. One of them I call "that store". I do not want to call it by name because I don't want any affiliation to it, but I will give hints: it's huge; it sells a lot of stuff; It destroys small town businesses; oh, and you can NEVER NEVER NEVER find some one to help you when you need them--they always pop up when you don't. Got the idea? When HEB starts carrying prunes we'll stop going.

Well, we went to "that store" today. Ughhh. And I can't remember what we bought. But some people were very inconsiderate of us. I don't expect red carpet treatment when I take Ago shopping but I expect people to let this man pass with his cart. No that didn't happen. He almost ran into a family of four. And the looks that we get, some are mean; some people get mad at us because take up half the aisle and walk slow. But I think most looks are out of ignorance. They have no idea who we are, or where we're from, and they probably will never see someone dressed like my grandfather in their beloved store (hat, trousers, button down shirt, jacket usually tweed, outdated, and the shoes, oh! I'll have to write a post on his clothing). There are some people just stare with confusion. It is very uncomfortable for me to know that I am being watched (and judged maybe?) by a complete stranger. On top of that, I'm yelling (Ago's hearing problem) in either Spanish or Armenian, or both most of the time and he's yelling back so it paints funny picture of me searching for I don't even now what because he mispronounced it or it was written illegiblly on his grocery list. (One time he kept yelling "COLOR X" and when I looked at the list it actually was Clorox. So we go to the clorox aisle and i pick one up for him and he says "NO, ASIGAH NO. COLOR X! NO ESTA AQUI"). However, there are people who smile and are patient, and curious. But not enough types to counter balance each other.

I know that I sound whiny when I complain like this, but I do expect people to be coinsiderate of us when we're at the store. He's 94 years old, and he's doing his own shopping. I'm there to provide transportation and bag fruit. There are people in "that store" that are clearly twenty to thirty years younger than my grandfather, and they use motorized scooters. WTF? This man is 94 years old, he's pushing his own cart; if I ever offered one of those scooters he'd throw a tantrum.

--> So I just read over my post and realized that the way I wrote the last part makes it sound like age triumphs handicap.