I Am Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been, Interested in Exchanging Pleasantries
I found myself at
the grocery the other day—I know, shocking. I had no grand scheme
in mind, I was out of fabric softener, and the all natural brand that
I use—which you can only get at a particular type of store—was
all I had on my mind. I walked in, with a moderate amount of duty in
my stride, and went straight to the cleaning aisle. Fabric softener
in hand, I did a quick tour of the facilities, looking at the sales
items, snagging a bite of cheese from the sample trays, and ogling
the organic halloween candy on display.
I began a debate
with myself as if I should actually buy the bag of individually
wrapped organic dark chocolate peanut butter cups. They looked
fantastic. My heart said yes, my brain said no. “They're organic!
Dark Chocolate! That's good for you!” my heart said. My brain
gently reminded me “Uh, yeah, didn't you just fill a bowl full of
mini peppermint patties and place them on your desk?” The week in
question was a stress filled one, and I came to the conclusion that I
deserved some peanut butter cups.
Cups and softener
at my side, I went to the check out lanes. Upon reaching the check
out section of the store, I noticed a familiar face behind one of the
registers. A young lady that I used to spent a great deal of time
with about eight years or so ago. Every lane, except her lane, was a
little crowded. I like to think that I'm a jolly old soul who does
make a modicum amount of effort to keep things civil with the various
women that I've encountered over these years, so I made my way
towards her lane.
I was midway in
my approach when she glanced over and saw me. I was smiling, a smile
that I thought indicated “I'm happy to see you, and hope to learn
that you are doing well.” Yet as I got closer, and in what seemed
to be the flash of a second, she produced a sign that said “Closed.
Please use next available lane.” She was in the middle of checking
out someone, and I was so surprised by it that I slightly stumbled as
I stopped my body from moving towards her lane. She was icily staring
ahead at the person she was checking out, and not once did she look
again towards my direction.
My joyful mood
quickly changed to one of slight bemusement. The rapid fire move on
her part to keep from having to interact with me was something I had
never encountered before. Sure, there are those on this planet that
will go to all costs to avoid seeing me, or even being made aware of
my presence, but the sudden reaction movement cause me to pause for a
moment and ponder it. That short pause quickly gave way to my desire
to be on my merry way, and I went to the lane that was open besides
her.
That particular check out person was more than happy to smile and engage in quick chatter while I bought my cups and softener. The funny thing is, you see, while I was at the “here's your receipt” portion of the transaction, she who denied my cups and softener, quickly motioned on someone to check out in her lane. Receipt in hand, I left the store, drove home, did the laundry, and ate a peanut butter cup.
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