I find it embarrassing to see grown men in grocery stores, standing in the shadows of their spouses like lost little children. I cannot understand why the male species cannot find their way through a grocery store coherent and efficiently. Live by example, I was always told; so I do.
When we make our sojourn to the grocery store, I lead by example. I must admit, I have a rather good ability to spot items and on the next visit, be able to precisely to and grab them. Mostly, it is items that may seem obscure at the time, certain steak sauces, oyster sauce, frankfurters in a jar, etc. Maybe it is a ‘guy’ thing, to spot certain potato chips, drinks and other oddities. Tonya and I step into our local store, and I ask her to refresh my memory of items we may need. Then I fulfill my duties as a competent shopping partner.
Tonya usually starts off in the produce. I immediately head off to the dairy section. I grab the milk, butter, yoghurt and may grab eggs while I am at it. I take it all back and put it in the basket. Then I usually set out for the legumes and pastas, possibly stopping by the paper goods aisle to grab paper towels and toilet paper. I have quite a knack for getting the best deals on toothpaste, so I take care of that when needed. If I pass the pet aisle while I am making my rounds, I always stop and grab treats for the dogs. I am always checking the liquid soaps out too, watching for a good deal. Currently we have some melon scented junk that doesn’t foam up worth a crap. I always feel like my hands don’t get clean enough with this green, melony rubbish. Of course, I always go by the wine section and see what looks tasty for this week’s liquid accompaniments for our meals. By the time I have done my part, Tonya and I usually rendezvous in the meat section and get whatever it is we need from there. The last things we grab are snacks. Tonya likes a good amount of junk food for munching at night. We both stand and debate over which cookies sound good or which cakey-type snacks we will get into. Another last call is the bread section.
It is the bread section where my recent encounter took place. I am getting tired of my regular cereal routine for breakfast, so when Tonya mentioned getting some bread, I was thrilled to switch my menu up and immediately made my way to browse all the bread and rolls on display. I walk to and fro, eyeing up potential tasty bits, carrying the aluminum tray and tongs in hand. I retrace my steps and make my final decisions as to who will be ‘tonged’ by me. As I am grabbing my assorted rolls, Tonya comes over and takes a look to see if there is anything that looks good to her. She sees a ‘biscuit’ and asks if it is gross if she gets one and makes a sandwich with it. I grab an extra for her so she can try it out. She says she is going to go grab some ice cream that she sampled while wondering in the produce section.
I make my way to the counter and prepare to hand my tray laden with rolls over to the cashier. At the last second I remember I want one of those long, cinnamon things. They look like flat French loaves, but they are twisted and cinnamon flavored. These cinnamon things are above the baskets filled with loose rolls, or ‘bolillos’. I eye the cinnamon things but can’t get to them just yet. There is an ‘alternative’ looking type guy standing in front of the bolillo baskets, grabbing some loose rolls. I notice the worn friendship bracelets on his wrist as he is grabbing his bread. He has a ski cap on his head and quite a sizeable beard growing out. I just don’t these ‘hipster’ types who insist on wearing ski caps in hot climates. Today is quite toasty outside, so it really perplexes me. I am watching the guy choose his bread and patiently awaiting my turn to be able to reach over him and grab what I want.
I notice that his head had been shaved, and little hairs were starting to grow out. For some odd reason, this immediately makes me look to his feet to see what kind of shoes he’s wearing. Is he an ex-skinhead who now is mellowing out in his later years? He looks pretty laid back, with jeans and a white t-shirt. If it weren’t for his casual, everyday attire I would say he was probably some terrorist in training. He looks like some guy who is getting an earful at the local mosque. His beard somewhat full, but still a bit awkward…like he is just getting into his ‘role’ of one of Mohammed’s warriors. For a moment I wonder if I am standing next to a misplaced Mujahidin. Then again, I don’t recall mosques being a popular item here in Mexico. Now that he’s got his rolls, he turns and faces me. We are facing each other. Since he is facing me directly, I can see what is on front of his t-shirt; likewise, he can see mine. I am looking pretty cool. Boney legs showing from my shorts, messy hair, unshaven and proudly displaying my choice of design on my shirt; two boxers, one knocking the other guy out and below the guy throwing the punch is the word “Me” and the guy reeling has the word “You” under him. He stares at the image for an instant.
It is kind of funny how us two dudes size each other up while waiting to pay for our bread. I am quite surprised at was adorning his chest. A replica of the Nazi totenkopf in front of a horizontal diamond, colored in the colors of the old German flag; red, white and black. There is the symbol that looks like a rounded, three pronged swastika. Across the top, in old German style letting it reads something about “The Brotherhood”. Needless to say, I hardly reckoned on coming face to face with a brown White Supremacist while buying bread. I took a quick once over twice. It does not make sense. A dark Mexican guy wearing a ski cap and friendship bracelets as a White Supremacist. Then again, seeing the hair growing out from under his ski cap, it sort of does. Maybe he was a skin head and now he is in some difficult transition period where he is Mexican, but loves white people but is considering Islam. The shorn head and tee shirt make complete sense. The Taliban beard and ‘white-power’ garb do not.
Weirder still, is the fact that he is holding a few small bags of cat food.
I reach over and grab my cinnamon stick. He rethinks his needs, and turns to grab another roll. When he turns, I notice the ‘white power’ symbol on the back of his t-shirt. Odd, very odd. Once, about four years ago while in a shoe store I saw a Mexican guy wearing a t-shirt with a swastika and the eagle on it. I thought that a bit brave at the time, but this alternative guy takes the cake for cultural confusion.
I walk away with my goods, making sure I smile at the cashier and saying “gracias”. She shoots a big smile back at me. Tonya and I meet about midway in the store. She asks if I am all done, and I say yes. We head toward the checkout lanes. As we choose our lane and start to unload, I notice that one guy ahead of us is the ‘white power’ hipster dude. He looks at me one final time, as if he is trying to size me up some more. I meet his glance as I am unloading my groceries. After he leaves I ask Tonya if she noticed the guy. Obviously not. I know for a fact she would not recognize any white power garb, especially here in Mexico. I explain to her what the guy had on. She quickly dismisses it as just another Mexican trying to be cool, and obviously wearing a t-shirt they did not understand. I disagree; I think he knew perfectly well what it was.
When we get home I go to the computer and type in random searches of white power and white supremacy. I want to see if I can spot the exact t-shirt and see if it is tied to anything in particular. Amazingly, about two entries down is a news story which was publish last November, which blows open the connection between the Aryan Brotherhood and the Mexican drug cartels. I shudder to think that in actuality, I may have just stood face to face with a guy who is double trouble; a cartel member who has allegiances to the Aryan Brotherhood in prisons that lie stateside. Imagine the revelation! I read the article and it makes for perfect sense. I have somewhat of paranoia as I continue on with my Googling. If ‘the man’ is watching me on my computer, he is going to have a heyday with my browsing white power apparel. I never found the shirt, but found some similar items. I did, however, laugh when I saw the ‘white power’ assortment of coffee mugs.
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