Scene: Publix in suburban Atlanta; 1:00pm on a Friday afternoon

Young(ish), professional(ish) looking woman (YPLW) orders her sandwich over in the deli area and heads over to check out after grabbing some sea salt and black pepper kettle chips because she read about them on some blog.

Three lines are open: (1) Express lane, (2) Aisle 6 and (3) Aisle 1. YPLW chooses the express lane after scoping out the competition and finding lots of people doing their weekly shopping. She remembers those days of having such a luxury and tries not to be jealous. Kinda like she tries not to be jealous of all the women she sees walking while she's driving to work every morning.

Taking her place in line behind the middle-aged African American woman, YPLW notices that the woman is singing aloud. To John Mayer. "I wanna run through the halls of my high school. . ." etc. Not only that, she's dancing--including adding a sassy little flip of the head every time the music reaches a certain point.

In front of the woman is the wannabe cowboy with faux cowboy boots, jeans with a permanent crease on the back leg complete with a Cloroxed stripe, a case of corona, a case of Sam Adams Boston Lager, a bag of potatoes, two packs of Camels and two packages of pork chops. He keeps looking at the woman like she's possessed, but she just keeps singing. And bopping.