The cashier helping me was Hispanic. I was in a national chain department store, picking up a couple of things for the grandboys. It should have been an easy, carefree moment. Routine, even.
The tall man standing behind me was dressed in military fatigues, a pretty unusual site in this area of Washington State where there are no military bases, no National Guard Armory. It made me wonder for a moment if perhaps he wasn’t one of those “fakers”, you know men who dress in military gear hoping for a discount, even though they’ve never served. It happens. Why else would a man be out shopping in the kids department of a chain store on the middle of the day in a town known more for its retirement community than its military presence? Seemed unusual to me.