Life without a car was rough. My Toyota had decided recently that it would rather finish its days in a junk yard than with me on the road. Not having those basic luxuries in life had put me in a rather awkward stage in my life, one I struggled to see a way out of. They say when you get older, debt becomes more and more of a burden. If this was going to get worse, I wasn't sure if I could afford to get any older. The car, while paid off, was not going to get me any money, and I was now scraping by on bus fare, and I felt the world passing me by. While some of my friends were out with girlfriends, cruising about town, having all of the fun, I was at home, alone, not able to afford leave at times, wondering when it would be my turn.
But a guy's gotta eat. I hopped off of the bus and made my way to the grocery store. It's funny how some people follow you off of the bus, as you may be sharing a destination. The old cat lady needed some cat food, and the young kid needed to get some soda and candy for later. I needed groceries. While none of us had similar reasons to go here, we all found ourselves in it together, and as much as I didn't like being lumped in with them, there was something comforting about knowing we had a common goal. There was no eye contact as we marched towards the store, and as soon as we passed through the automatic glass doors, we all split up and went our separate ways, without so much as a whisper. The journey was over. Back to square one, I became a man on a mission.
I had a list before me. I intended to make my very exciting casserole. You see, when a man is forced to live within his means, he must take it upon himself to squeeze the value out of every dime (forget pennies). The casserole is the desperate man's best friend (unless dogs were back on the menu). The requirements for the dish were simple. A can of peas, because they're green. A box of noodles, for the slimy texture. A can or two of tuna, or, if I was feeling particularly fancy, some shredded chicken, because a man needs his meat. To round it out, two cans of cream of mushroom soup, to give it that broth texture. A meal of this caliber could easily last three days. Four if I stretched it, and stretch it, I would.
Everything fell into place. The super market was a bit on the busy side today, odd for a Thursday, but not unexpected. Maybe the popular people were getting ready for some big Friday party, that all of the other popular people were being invited to. They were all in a hurry to get wine, beer, fruits, and all of the other things I was too broke to afford, all in the name of showing off. How much fun could one of those parties be any ways? I'm sure if I went to one, which I wouldn't, they would be a group of lame socialites sitting in a big circle, jerking each other off and comparing Rolexes.
I hit a small snag in my scavenging: I had a specific brand of peas that I liked buying, and they were sold out. Coincidentally or not, they were also the cheapest brand of peas. I pushed aside the other brands to see if one was hiding, but alas, it was to no avail. Thoughts of my budget slipped into my brain, doing figure eights on my bank account. I heard a voice come from behind me. "Can I help you find anything?"
I turned around. Here in front of me was a girl, probably around my age (early twenties), with dark brown hair and green eyes. She was a few inches taller than me, and a bit on the chubby side. She looked to be maybe 200 pounds. Okay, maybe she was more than chubby, but I thought she looked really cute, and saying fat has such a negative connotation that I would try to use any other word. One positive was that she appeared to have some nice curves, though she wore a tan apron that draped over her entire frame. I could venture to say, however, that her chest jutted out a pretty impressive distance. I just then remembered that she had asked me a question. "Oh, um, yeah. I was wondering if you had any more of the store brand peas?"
She pulled out her scanner gun and zapped the label on the shelf. She looked at the screen. "Well would you look at that, we have a ton in the back. I'll go grab some for you. Wait here just a second please." I nodded. She turned and walked away. She most certainly had curves from behind. She was wearing jeans, and guys know that when a girl has a booty, jean pockets look extra tight, and these were no exception. There was a slight sway as she walked, sending that battering ram of a behind back and forth. It almost made me forget about my problems, seeing her walking away.
She was a bigger girl than I was generally in to. That was an odd thing to think. I had never been a guy that girls flocked to, so to say that I had a type was somewhat misleading. I was certainly not one to turn down the ladies. What if this girl asked me out? Would I say yes? "Here you go!" came her voice. I shook out of my thoughts, and my head immediately focused on the can of peas in front of me, then the bulging chest puffed out in front of me. My eyes couldn't help but wander slightly around the can. "What are you going to make with these peas?"
"Thank you," I replied. I put the peas into my small handbasket. Oh wait, there was another question. "Oh, I'm going to make this casserole. It's pretty much the best thing ever, if you literally can't afford anything else."
She laughed, then sighed. "Don't I know, it. I'm in the same boat. I think I'm eating Ramen tonight. I know it's a disaster for your body, but I also had to pay my car for the month, so..."
"Well I highly recommend this casserole. It's super cheap and easy to make. I'm not Top Chef or anything like that, but I can make a mean casserole."
"A man that can cook? Well aren't you a keeper!" She giggled. I noticed that when she laughed, her chest bounced up and down. I quite enjoyed that. Maybe I should try to tell her some more good jokes?
