So, I needed a gallon of milk, because someone made a chocolate pie last night and used up all but a sliver of milk and then conveniently slept through my complaining about it this morning. Getting a gallon of milk on this side of town is kind of a pain in the butt because your choices are either expensive gas stations or the Kroger, which is always busy and the milk is clear in the far back corner, or the grocery store up the ridge, but then, by the time you’ve gone clear past your house to the grocery store, you kind of feel obliged to buy more than one thing. Or at least I do.
But strangely enough, there is a little grocery store in front of the Kroger. It’s weird, but true, two grocery stores on basically the same plot of land. I have only been into this grocery store one other time, to get cookies, I believe. But it seemed nice enough. It’s the kind of place with fifteen cent candy sticks and inch long sausages for sale at the checkout.
I walked in, or tried to, but walked in the wrong door. That’s when the bag boy spotted me. I smiled at him as I came in the right door, but he weirdly looked away from me, even though it was clear he was looking right at me.
Well, fine. You can’t be sexy to everyone.
I grabbed a gallon of milk and came back to the front. His was the shortest line, so I got in it. As I was paying for my milk, he raised his right hand, palm towards me, and began to mutter. I looked over, but he didn’t seem to be angry or afraid of me or anything, but intent.
So, I didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a blessing, you know?
But then I got in the car and drove home and I started to get a little freaked out. Like, what if he had cursed me?
I was really wishing I knew some kind of good protection charm at that moment.
But all I could come up with is “I’m rubber. You’re glue. Whatever you did bounced off me and stuck to you.”