April 3, 2006
We went down to the Bay Area to pick my mom up from the airport. As is typical, she offered to take us grocery shopping for “real Chinese food” while we were in town.
We headed to the checkout line and started putting our stuff on the moving belt thingy. There was one customer ahead of us, an older Chinese man. I don’t know if this was happening before we got there, but my perception was that when we started putting our groceries down, he started singing, in Chinese. And not just a quiet hum — I mean, you would have thought he was in a choir. In fact it even sounded kind of Chinese hymn-ish. He continued to sing as he swiped his credit card and paid. I got a little weirded out because as I stood waiting, he looked directly at me, and, still singing, waved his hand back and forth to the beat of his song. I felt like maybe I was being exorcised or something.
He walked out the store, still singing loudly. My mom paid and we left.