Week Fourteen theme 1

She always came into the grocery store and seemed so frazzled. She had a kid on her hip and another in the cart. She wore so much make-up, even though she was naturally pretty enough without it.
Was it judgmental to say that she was a single mom? She never came in with a man. Always just the children.
She bought fairly normal things. You can tell a lot about a person judging by what they buy at the grocery store; this is something you learn after bagging groceries for two and a half years.
She would collect her bags and go to leave. She seemed to always be in a hurry and she only muttered a 'have a nice day'.
It's hard not to wonder what her life must be like. Maybe she has to chase after both of her small sons all day. Maybe she gets sad. Does she sometimes wish she would've waited to have children?
People say that having kids at a young age will rob you of your picture. While bringing in the shopping carts, the young mother was cleaning off the face of her little boy and talking to him in baby talk. A bright smile was on her face, and there was a sweet ring in her voice.
The ring that, for some unknown reason, only mothers have.
How can so much love rob her of her future?

***
Red blotches on his face, wrinkles and balding hair showed that he was far too old to be working on his feet. He breathed in heavy wheezes, and he was a little round around the middle. He didn't have a wedding ring on.
His current costumers were two young teenagers wearing jeans that were so tight they would probably lower their sperm count, t-shirts with ignorant sayings on them and big, fat skater shoes.
The man talked to them in a very quiet voice. He kept his eyes low and didn't look them in the face. The Hannaford name tag on his red polo shirt read 'Toby, at your service for 12 years'.
"Wait, is that soda $2.99?" One of the punks asked.
Toby pushed his glasses up his nose and answered softly, "Yes, that is the price of it."
"Seriously?!" The kid said dramatically, "I don't want it anymore. Take it off."
Toby nodded and cancelled out the item. He continued ringing in their things.
It was clear that Toby was older, and he worked at a slower pace. One of the punks was tapping his stupid foot impatiently.
"Can you hurry it up? We've got places to be." The other punk said without a touch of politeness in his voice.
Toby started to sweat; you could see it on his shiny forehead. He nodded quickly and started ringing in their items faster.
One of the kids nudged the other and they shared a cruel smile, "Twelve years working in this dump and you still can't ring groceries in fast enough?"
Toby didn't say anything. He just continued to do his job. His eyes were full of an emotion that looked like hurt.
The two punks left. Toby stood motionless as they walked away without saying thank you.
It seems like people in this world assume that every store clerk worker is an idiot without a work ethic. Why does it matter where he works? Maybe he enjoys it. Maybe this is what he likes to do.
Does it matter if he went to college or not? Does it matter if he isn't making triple digits a year?
Why do people go out of their way to be so cruel?