The man looked to be in his mid-thirties.

         With slight indentations in his forehead and faint lines around his mouth.

         A determined look in his eyes as he shuffled towards the front of the line.

         His hair was buzzcut, a short shave of jet black grass that glimmered with blades of gray.

         Gray hair already, sir?

         He probably had kids.

         In his arms, he carried items that he had yet to place on the conveyor belt. Small containers with red and white labels. FDA approved packaging.

         By the look of him, he definitely seemed to be one of those strongarms.

         A weightlifter. A body builder.

         Kind of how that big guy from the Popeyes cartoon looked.

         His arms were of epic proportions. Big and muscled. Giant and intimidating.

         If it weren’t for his sleeveless shirt, his biceps would have busted right through the fabric in a way that wasn’t at all flattering.

         In fact, they were so big, that even the old lady at the cashier couldn’t help but gape at them.

         “Are those real, son?”

         “Yes, ma’am, they are. Wanna touch ’em?”

          He placed his items on the conveyor belt, dropping them in one big pile of vitamins, potassiums, and proteins.

         It wasn’t surprising to see various brands of protein shakes and powders in his collection, round containers with big bold letters saying, “ELECTROLYTES INSIDE”, and, “ARE YOU READY TO GET PUMPED UP?”

         Natural vitamins and oil bottles rolled about the rubber belt, and almost shamefully, I placed my boxes of ding dongs, twinkies, and chocolate chip cookies along with them.

         Meanwhile, the old lady at the cashier stared wide-eyed at the big man’s muscles.

         The big man scoffed at my choice in items.

         Five minutes later, his total rang up to $26.82.