Madame, could you spare some Grey Poupon? Rather interesting engagement at the cheese counter of the local grocer today. I was standing next to a woman who had struck me as a bit odd, in that peripheral, subliminal way that we humans have - she was pleasant and polite, perhaps a bit simple, perhaps just a bit skewed off the norm. She turned to me and asked, "Do you know where they keep that really soft cheese?"

I replied, "What kind of soft cheese? Do you mean perhaps something like Brie?"

"It comes in those round boxes," she said.

"There's some Brie," I said, pointing to the small wheels on the shelf directly in front of her. "Is that what you're looking for?"

She picked up the wheel and considered it thoughtfully. "Hmmm, 8.99", she murmured. "Could you help me out with this?"

Puzzled, I asked "Help you out in what way?"

"Could you buy it for me?"

I gently answered that I would not be able to do so, but had to suppress a smile. This was certainly a new one on me. I have been importuned by some of society's more marginal members, the polite or the bullying, for spare change, phone money, bus fare, a fiver for lunch, coffee - even for a drink by an honest wino or two. But I had never yet been solicited for a wheel of Brie.

Later in another aisle she stopped me and asked if I knew where the "diet food" was. I'm afraid I could not help her out there, either. (But resisted the temptation to gesture toward my avoirdupois and respond with a "Lady, do I look like I know where they keep the diet food?")

I don't relate this tale of cheese because I think it signifies anything - just thought it added a bit of whimsy to the morning's errands.