I have been meaning to write this story since it happened, Saturday night. But, I didn't have time then and was going to do it yesterday but Sundays are always busy. So I had to wait for today. Just in case you think I am horriable by the end of this post, I am just having fun with an expirence I went through. I am just being Silly! I think they call it poetic licence!lol
Where to begin....alright, I will start right after my mom and Aaron went to the front of the grocery store to get out of line and me and Carole were helping our dad unload the cart.
Butter, milk, eggs and other necessitates of life filled the conveyor belt. Trying desperately to grab the food from the cart without breaking my nail filled my thoughts as a small girl behind us tried to grab a magazine from a near by rack.
No, her father said loudly as the little girl whined. "Dad-dy, BUT I WANT A MAGAZINE!" Terrific, I thought. We are in front of a brat. The girl persisted. "Mag-a-zine" She chanted "Mag-a-zine." Wonderful, we have a five year old campaigning for a stupid magazine, in back of my head.
I glanced over at Carole who had on one of her "she'd better stop or I am going to fling this eight pound potato sack at her head faces" on. "Mommmmm-ey" No, she said as she continued to ignore her daughter, while reading her magazine with her husband. What a typical American family. Oh brother! "Mag-a-zine...Mag-a-zine!" Oh good, she's at it again. It gets better, don't worry. "I want to go to the car. I want to go to the car!" No, one of the parents said while their noses were still buried in their reading material.
"Why not...why not" Carole starts chanting under her breath. Since the cart was between us, I couldn't give her a sisterly knock in the ribs, so I tried to give her one of my best teacher looks. I am afraid it did not intimidate her.
Finally, all the food was on the belt and the cart was pushed to the front where the bag boy started putting the groceries in bags and then in the cart. I decided I needed Altoids. I happen to love Altoids and I was running low. But what I was not prepared for, was the different flavors. We had original, we had extra original, we had the holiday special kind of mint wrapped in chocolate and then we had a fruity kind "Mango."
That sounds good, I thought. So, I grabbed a can and proceeded to put it with all our other groceries where the cashier was checking everything out.
"Oh, you are going to love these!" I smiled politely. She then put her hand in her little vest pocket and started to pull something out. "Oh dear." My mind started wondering "She is going to pull out a gun and shoot me. I shouldv'e been more polite. Ummmm....Maybe I shoulv'e said "Oh really? Oh good, I am so happy. I have been standing in line for a half hour waiting for our turn so I wouldn't have to hear magazine girl anymore, and I was just hoping some one was going to tell me what Altoids were the ones I needed! Thank You, Thank you!" Instead of a gun she pulled out the same can I had just chosen and opened it... "Here, try one. They are so good."
Oh man...now what? My mother's voice was coming through my thoughts now from years and years of prompting "Never take candy from strangers!" I looked into her eyes. They were pleading with me to take one. What should I do, be rude and say keep your Altoids? I reasoned that they weren't candy, per say but Altoids? So I took one. But the persistent cashier, scary Altoids lady was not budging. "Taste it, it's so good!"
So I thought... Well I might be meeting my Creator right now. So long, Carole, Dad, strange bag boy, whiny magazine girl. I am going home." So I popped the acid coated Altoid in my mouth and wondered how long it would take before it dissolved and killed me. Apparently, bag boy didn't want me to die alone. So, he started up a conversation with me.
"So, are you twelve or fourteen?" For my obituary? I thought. I looked him square in the eye. "Excuse me?" He stuttered just a little. "I was wondering are you twelve or fourteen?" I couldn't believe my ears. Here I am twenty years old and here he thought I was merely a teenager? Carole had the same look on her face. But I knew what she was thinking "You did it now. You should never have asked Ginger that. Of all the questions you could have asked, you asked if she was 14?" "I am twenty years old." I said with disgust. "He stuttered some more. "I am sorry about that. I am five years older." Strange, acid, Altoids lady said. "I am seven years older." Carole says.... "I am two years younger. What a small world after all." Bag boy looks into my eyes( frankly, he was giving me goose bumps) and said. "Well you are so very beautiful..." I said "Thank you." In my polite voice. Then he looked at Carole and said "As are you." "Thanks" She said with a slap of her tongue and a roll of her eyes. Oh dear!! He then decided to ask us about what we think about the primaries. When strange, acid, Altoids, murder lady asked me "Is it tangy yet?" "Is that what I should feel right before I collapse?" I wanted to ask.
Well finally, the groceries were paid for, the cart was full with bagged items and we started heading out. But, not before the strange bag boy could tell me yet again that I was so beautiful. Well, I am happy to report that strange, acid, Altoid lady did not poison me and I am still alive and kicking. LOL...