The Day I Became a Crazy Down Syndrome Stalker

When you have a baby with Down syndrome, you become a part of a secret society. If you’re out in public and you spot another person with Down syndrome, you can’t help yourself – you have to make contact with them (or their parents).

Other times, you find yourself on the receiving end of what I refer to as The Linger – when people hang around making chit chat that eventually includes a comment like “He’s a special boy!” or “You’ve got a buddy!” (Special and Buddy are like passwords for this secret society). Exchanges like these are just part of our non-typical life.

Yesterday, I went from Lingerer to Crazy Stalker.

My friend Dawn called me while I was picking Sarah Kate up from school to tell me that the Publix Supermarket in the next town has a young man working there with Down syndrome. She had just left the store and he was bagging in the next lane over. She described him as an older version of Nathan.

“He looks like your family.”

At first, I thought I’d buy my groceries there next week – I always shop at Publix, so going to a different store would be no biggie. Then I thought, “Well, he might not work on weekday mornings, when I usually shop,” so I decided instead to drop in on our way home from PT (it was on the way).

But as I drove my thinking evolved into, “What if he gets off before 5:00? If he does, then we’ll miss him.” I did some quick mental calculations and determined that we probably had just enough time to hit the Publix on the way and still make it to PT on time.

I promise it seemed rational at the time.

I entered the store and scanned the checkout lines. All of the people bagging groceries were women. I strode past customer service and made a left toward the pharmacy at the other end of the store. It had only been about twenty minutes since Dawn called me, so I was sure he had to still be there somewhere.

I walked to the dairy case and pretended to examine the different varieties of cheese dip, shook my head for effect, then turned back toward the front of the store. Surely anyone who saw me would assume I ran in looking for a specific, sadly unavailable, variety of cheese dip, right? I scanned the checkout lanes again – still all women baggers, and only one male checker – and headed out the door.

I was feeling a little discouraged.

Then, as I was about to climb back into the car, I spotted a young man walking across the parking lot in the direction of a grocery cart that had escaped its corral. He was short, but not overly so, and had hair a little lighter than Sarah Kate’s. No one was parked in front of me, so I threw my purse into the front seat and started the car. Unfortunately, a white subcompact pulled into the space across from me right when I was about to shift into D, blocking both my planned route and my view.

I backed out of the space, but now the object of my obsession was strolling back toward the store and my car was facing in the wrong direction. I sped down the aisle and started to make a loop, then realized he had changed direction again, shepherding another wayward cart. Throwing caution to the wind, I drove the wrong way down another aisle until I could get close enough to see his face.

Dawn was right. He DID look like our family.

By this time, I realized that I had become a Crazy Stalker and that if anyone had been observing my moves over the past ten minutes, they’d probably think I was a menace to this young man. We drove by him slowly (but not so slow as to arouse suspicion, I hoped) and then pulled out of the parking lot.

I’ve been a fan of Publix for years. I shopped there exclusively before we moved to Mayberry, and counted the days until the store here opened, when I was pleased to discover a man working the front who has cerebral palsy. Great products, impeccable service, and an inclusive atmosphere – and yesterday I found another treasure at the local Publix.

Now I just hope they’ll let me come back. 🙂