"I don't know if we're ever former anything, really." Johnny said, thoughtfully, pushing the cart down the aisle, though he wasn't really looking at the bottles anymore. "I mean, despite whatever we think we are now, have we really let go of who we were?"
He laughed a little and looked at Mary. "That sounded really new agey. I think that's a good sign there needs to be alcohol in me."
His smile softened some and he nodded, thinking. "Probably better to not snack the whole way through. But you are bound to get the drunk munchies at some point, and if we're going to avoid other people as a general rule, I think stocking up is a good idea."
Johnny very carefully placed the blame for the need for nibbles at Mary's feet, though he was pretty sure that he'd get the urge eventually too. He wasn't immune to hunger. At least, not the psychological aspects of it. He had no idea if he would actually start to feel the physical sensations of starving if he went without for too long. He wasn't sure that he cared to find out, either. Food was good. Fun. Enjoyable. Tasty. Most of the time, anyway.
He playfully bumped the basket into her hip to show that he wasn't wholly serious.