“Twenty dollars?!” he said. “For what?”
“To buy groceries,” I told him.
“When I was a boy,” my grandfather said. “My mama would give me one dollar, just one dollar, and I’d go to the store and come home with two loaves of bread, two sacks of potatoes, a carton of eggs, three bottles of milk, a can of coffee and a box of tea.”
He shrugged and paused.
“Times have changed and ya can’t do that now,” he told me. “Too many fuckin’ security cameras.”