Tale of the Ethiopian Whisperer

Had an adorable moment today at a grocery/drug store by the gym:

Chevy Chase, MD

So I walk into Rodman's store, right.  As soon as I walked in I realized everyone was Ethiopian, and as I later found out, the store was owned by a father-son duo of...you guessed it, Ethiopian decent.

So I walk in, right...  everybody gives me suspect eye.  I turned down an aisle looking for eggs...the entire aisle turned and looked at me like I had walked in on some kind of secret Ethiopian mafia meeting or something.

Needless to say that wasn't the right aisle.

So I finally find the eggs and go to the checkout line.  I checkout with no problem.  As I turn to leave, the cashier from the other registers whispers in the softest most adorable voice ever,

"Salaam...hi..."

Now I knew what he said before the English part, and I knew it was directed at me.  I even knew how to respond.  My immediate hesitation was prompted the English translation.  But his little whispery voice was too ador to ignore, so I eventually turned around and smiled back.

I felt bad because I didn't want goop the man into thinking I'm one of his peeps, although I may have inadvertently done that by smiling.  I honestly wanted to respond in Amharic...took everything in me to just smile and walk away.

If he keeps whispering like that I might have to actually respond.  He don't want this work.


Now that I know my brethren are running the joint I'll be shopping there quite often.  That plus the fact that they had pints of blueberries for $1.99.  That's better than Wal-Mart.  My people ball so hard.