I am in a Church building and wander over to the store to buy some items. However, it's not a store that sells related items, it sells grocery products. This organic grocery store is a bit pricey, you know what I am talking about. The manager of the store is present.
Then a large group of Hispanic people enter the store. They are a family. A boy in the group comes over and tastes the oil in my bag. In the commotion of so many people in this small space, and so many bags that have accumulated, my grocery bag separates from myself, but I see it in the distance. I paid $50 for it.
The Hispanics leave and I go over to the single brown bag left, but when I look inside, it is empty. I am a bit angry about this and walk out of the store and into a hall where the Hispanic group is standing, not talking or moving at all. There are many bags all around and I look for my items, but all the bags are empty. I am sure that the members of the group have hidden the groceries on themselves as their pockets are bulging. I am not going to ask them to open up their pockets. Queerly, there is an inclination I have to invite myself to dinner as I am sure that this Hispanic group could cook up a fantastic BBQ for me.
But, instead, I leave and return to the store, however, it has transformed into a classroom. There stands a tall white, male teacher next to an overhead projector.
It's time for the trial to begin. I made back my $50 and more.