who the hell is that beef for?

Do you ever peep into the shopping cart of the person in front or behind you at the checkout counter?
I do. Shamelessly. But am deeply offended when my cart is being peeped into. Double standards rule.
The 'meal-for-one' kind of shopper is easy to figure out -- bread in one hand and eggs in the other. Almost on every trip to the store, you find one or two.
Last week there was this guy ahead of me, and I knew immediately that he was in a polygamous relationship (or is really kinky), and had many daughters in addition to the badly behaved bunch of sons who were giggling into the trolley he was checking out -- filled with sanitary napkins, talcum powder and perfumes. (If you think this is made up or is an exaggeration, then you haven't obviously been to the gulf and seen men shepherd their women folk in the personals section.)
Then there are trolleys very similar to mine – bursting with skimmed milk, low fat yoghurt, whole grain bread, muesli, marzipan cake rolls, mangoes, bananas and potatoes. A struggle between the wannabe and what-i-am-now.
So today at the checkout counter, I take a curious look at the purchases of an absolutely stunning looking woman. She is tall, she is well toned, she has flawless skin – bloody perfect... and very unfair, I thought, when I saw her slap a tray of beef mince on the counter. "Red meat and perfection? And I a vegetarian who just bought a kilo of tofu!"
Then the truth slowly unravels. A box of fruits, a tray of fresh green vegetables, turkey breasts, fish fillet (she had the entire food pyramid on display), some energy drink (obviously works out), cans and cans of cat food (that explains it. no children or even a dog to take care of, and end up neglecting self. just a cat that is probably as self-obsessed as Ms Perfect Skin/Body/And All).
So as I reluctantly peel myself away from the line, having finally loaded all my food onto the cart, I decide the beef must be for the really ugly boyfriend or husband.
Then I see her meet her husband/boyfriend outside the supermarket, and there went my last hope into the trash bin... and to top it all, they were polite and helped me and my cart over a bump on the way to the parking lot.
I barely managed a thank you, forced a smile, and bit down the words on the tip of my tongue: "who the hell is that beef for?"