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If you have to pass by the self-checkout stand to enter the grocery store, it doesn’t hurt to socialize with the people checking out. How else are you going to meet people? Magic?
“Honey Bunches of Oats,” I said. “Mmm, Mmm! I think you’re going to be very pleased.”
When he looked up, I was standing there looking at him with that all-knowing, “Mom face” from the commercials.
“Uh. Yeah, I’ve had them before,” he said. “They’ve been around for a pretty long time.”
“I’ll bet he doesn’t know what face I’m making,” I thought. “Because I’m just some guy. I wish I had a mirror to check the accuracy.”
“I’m making a mom face,” I said. “They make this face in commercials sometimes.”
“A what face?”
“This was a mistake,” I thought.
Over by the bakery, a group of friends were laughing and joking as they rounded up ingredients for what looked to be a delicious turkey dinner. I turned to watch them and was momentarily stricken by the thought that what they had accomplished was the exact thing that I had just proven myself to be incapable of achieving.
“But it’s not fair!” I said. “They already knew each other when they walked in.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
I turned to look and once again, it was that obnoxious guy at the self-checkout stand.
“For God’s sake, can this guy just fuck off already?” I wondered.
THE END.
