The Welfarians



The checkout line isn't what it used to be.

THE SHOPPER IN FRONT of me in the supermarket line the other night paid with two peculiar checks with the letters “WIC” prominently inscribed on them. The acronym, which denotes a welfare food-assistance program, stands for “Women, Infants, and Children.” He was none of the above.

The elaborate tattoos on his arms advertised priorities. Tax dollars that ostensibly allow him to feed his face, or the faces of the women, infants, and children in his orbit, really enable him to recolor his body. Perhaps my assumption rests on too many assumptions. For all I know, he could have paid for the intricate ink designs prior to losing his job at Lehman Brothers. Somehow, I doubt it. The man’s expensive sneakers, designer T-shirt, gold chain, and body art bothered me less than his reaction to the clerk’s informing him that one of his items wasn’t covered by the WIC program. Rather than retrieve an acceptable product, he instructed the cashier to fetch it for him. She dutifully returned with a gallon of milk. Whereas the first one presumably didn’t pass muster with the government, the second one didn’t pass muster with him. Flustered, she instructed another worker to exchange the milk for his favorite flavor or brand or whatever. All the while, a late-night line curled into an elongated “L” shape. As he waited for his free milk, we waited at the one open register to pay for our groceries, too, after we paid for his.
I envied the man enjoying servants without their expense. Sorta. Kinda. Compelling your neighbors to spring for your midnight snack, and imperiously commanding the minimum-wage cashier to shop for it, that’s the life, right? Naturally, I searched the World Wide Web for my eligibility in this World Wide WIC. I took a government test—also available in Spanish and Chinese—indicating that, yes, a child under five lived in my home, and no, I did not have EBT benefits. The digital bureaucrat cruelly informed me, “Based on your responses, you may not be eligible for WIC benefits.” With my dream of a Welfarian tribal band—or perhaps merely a “WIC” tramp stamp—dashed, I took heart in the site’s instruction to visit another government site entitled, “Your path to government benefits.”


No comments:

Post a Comment