The checkout lines were long at the grocery store today. It seemed that everyone, like me, dilly-dallied until their cupboards were bare before they went shopping.
At one point I turned around to see how many people were waiting in line behind me. A bright-eyed man in his 50's stood holding a red shopping basket.
"My brother's dog reads the newspaper every day," the man said to me. "Can you believe it?"
"Yes, I believe it," I said. "Dogs are very smart."
"The dog will only read a newspaper which no one else has read. If someone even unfolds it, the dog refuses to read it. Can you believe it?"
"Yes," I said. "I feel the same way about newspapers."
"My brother says the dog also sells insurance. Can you believe it?"
"Yes. I believe it." My reply was automatic and possibly not sincere; I felt like things might be getting out of hand.
"I don't believe it," the man said.
I nodded my head. "Now that I think about it, neither do I."
"My brother says the dog only sells insurance to famous sports celebrities." The man laughed loudly. "I think my brother's full of it. I think my brother's a storyteller."
"I like storytellers," I said. "A lot of my friends are storytellers. In fact, I'm kind of a storyteller myself..."
The man wheeled around and said to the woman standing behind him, "My brother's dog reads the newspaper every day. Can you believe it?"
The line suddenly advanced, and I reached the checkout counter.
"Paper or plastic?" the cashier said to me.
"Paper," I said.
I'm still trying to figure out what the Universe is telling me, with all this paper manifesting in my life.