A&P

“She’s one of those cash-register-watchers, a witch about fifty with rogue on her cheekbones and no eyebrows, and I know it made her day to trip me up.”

This further emphasizes Sammy’s descriptive habits, especially when targeting those within his own class. He gives the woman not one but two titles. This description alerts the reader to Sammy’s antipathy for the customers, but it also suggests he’s rung up countless others who’ve acted similarly and he’s developed a category for them.

“—you know, the kind of girl other girls think is very ‘striking’ and ‘attractive’ but never quite makes it, as they very well know, which is why they like her so much.”

This quote indicates there are likely others in Sammy’s life who label people and that he’s learned to do the same. He is reading into the girls’ dynamics to identify who is at the top and who is at the bottom. This reflects Sammy’s ingrained ideas of class.

“You never know for sure how girls’ minds work (do you really think it’s a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glass jar?)”

Sammy is preoccupied with the girls’ appearances before considering what lies beneath, and when he does, it’s with condescending hubris. He devotes little time to the idea before diving right back into physical descriptions. He also makes no attempt to answer the question and is simply content to pose it.

“I mean, it was more than pretty.”

Sammy often fails to articulate the immensity of Queenie’s beauty and he tends to deem it ineffable. This represents a disconnect between lust and admiration; the former is concerned only with the body, while the latter includes numerous personal nuances. Sammy’s immaturity makes it difficult for him to express nonphysical beauty.

“The longer her neck was, the more of her there was.”

This quote further reflects Sammy’s preoccupation with Queenie’s physical appearance, yet it also displays Sammy’s tendency to make justifications on her behalf. Before this line, Sammy remarks that her long neck looks somewhat stretched. Later in the story, Sammy defends Queenie against his boss, Lengel, and risks his job simply to appeal to her.

“I bet you could set off dynamite in an A&P and the people would by and large keep reaching and checking oatmeal off their lists and muttering ‘Let me see, there was a third thing, began with A, asparagus, no, ah, yes, applesauce!’ or whatever it is they do mutter.”

Sammy ascribes a soulless nature to the A&P’s customers, insisting that virtually nothing could disturb their routine bubble. Even their speech is predictable, as it is all concerning their purchases. As opposed to Queenie and her friends, the customers, at least to Sammy, are hopelessly one-dimensional.

“Stokesie’s married, with two babies chalked up on his fuselage already, but as far as I can tell that’s the only difference. He’s twenty-two, and I was nineteen this April.”

Stokesie represents a possible future for Sammy, which is why Sammy can identify only the most obvious differences between them. The word “fuselage” connotes no love and instead casts the parental relationship as one of functionality; a fuselage holds cargo. Sammy seems uninterested in this family life.

“I forgot to say he thinks he’s going to be manager some sunny day, maybe in 1990 when it’s called the Great Alexandrov and Petrooshki Tea Company or something.”

This quote invokes the Point resort right outside town, and the possibility for its upper-class culture to infiltrate a place like the A&P, parodied by the Russian establishment names. It also represents the potential for increased wealth in the middle class. People like Sammy and Stokesie may have such prospects.

“It’s not as if we’re on the Cape; we’re north of Boston and there’s people in this town haven’t seen the ocean for twenty years.”

This remark emphasizes the class divide. Although his town is only five miles from a beach, Sammy makes it clear that, due to poverty, some locals have not had the luxury of a beach day for some time. By referencing Cape Cod, a wealthy coastal town also in Massachusetts, Sammy juxtaposes the popular image of New England wealth with the reality of his surroundings.

“Poor kids, I began to feel sorry for them, they couldn’t help it.”

Here, Sammy experiences a moment of sympathy for the girls, though it may be in the context of his unreliable narration. The remark is ultimately ambiguous; as he watches his coworkers ogle at the girls, he says “they couldn’t help it.” He may be suggesting the girls are willfully making themselves a spectacle because they can’t resist the temptation for attention—or he may be suggesting the girls are vulnerable and helpless to stop the objectifying male gazes that follow them.

“Now here comes the sad part of the story, at least my family says it’s sad but I don’t think it’s sad myself.”

Sammy shows his youthful rebellion; even while retrospectively narrating, he does not view his actions in an altogether negative light. The quote offers some context for Sammy’s character and suggests his family’s mindset, which seems comparable to that of Lengel. They believe it’s wiser to conform than to rebel, especially when it involves money.

“That’s policy for you. Policy is what the kingpins want. What the others want is juvenile delinquency.”

Sammy points out the absurdity of the idea that there is seemingly no middle ground between the strict kingpins and the rebellious youth. Part of Sammy’s frustration with Lengel stems from Sammy’s inability to express his disagreement without involuntarily labeling himself a “juvenile delinquent.”

“But it seems to me that once you begin a gesture it’s fatal not to go through with it.”

Sammy’s concern here is that of authenticity. Each day he spends at the A&P is a day spent with its customers, whom he views as sheeplike and completely submissive to their class position and social statutes. Sammy wishes to be authentic and individualistic, which prompts him to follow through with his gesture.