Cultural sensitivity in the redneck woods

I was shopping at Kroger this afternoon. I bought two ribeye steaks, baking potatoes, sour cream, a few things of yogurt, onions and mushrooms. And a few other items of no consequence.

As I was checking out, the bagger girl asked me if it was ok if she put the steaks in the same bag as the sour cream and yogurt. “Of course,” I said and then immediately realized I had just experienced the first genuine cultural sensitivity in the nineteen years I had lived in Ohio.

She was actually asking me if I wanted to keep my groceries kosher.

And with that one small act, I’m beginning to change my mind about tolerance and understanding in the redneck woods I call home.

Today, Judaism. Tomorrow, Islam.

Maybe?

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