This one is based on a true story... I'm joking, I wish! This is a slow burn story with lots of build-up but I think you'll find it worth your while. I know I did when I was writing it! I would love to hear your reactions - happy reading!
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Against my better judgement, I opened the kitchen cupboard and peered at the shelf that should contain my snacks. Nothing. I should have known. I didn't have any unruly, hungry roommates to blame for that. I lived on my own, so this was all me: emptying that cupboard as soon as there was anything there worth eating.
To be fair, my body didn't show it; between my natural leanness and my tendency to alleviate any work stress with a run or a bike ride, I could eat whatever I wanted and stayed in shape without any issues. However, I still felt that I should try and snack less. So I hadn't actually bought anything naughty for a while, thinking it would stop me from wanting it. It didn't.
And now, Friday night had arrived and I was doomed to have a movie night without any chocolate. After a manic workweek, I had spontaneously decided to have a night in, instead of joining my colleagues at the cocktail bar near our swanky office block. This meant I would miss the opportunity to try another cocktail from their extensive menu and, more importantly, to watch the cute pink-haired bartender make said cocktail with her signature down-to-earth style with just a hint of flair. It was crucial to make this lack of eye-candy worth my while, and for this I needed chocolate with my movie. And possibly some wine.
An all too familiar internal debate ensued between the healthy me - pleading I could easily watch a movie without chocolate - and the indulgent me - arguing it really was no effort at all to go the supermarket and grab some. As usual, the indulgent me won. Slightly annoyed with my own lack of a backbone, I stepped into my sneakers without bothering to tie the laces, and grabbed my leather jacket.
It was chilly outside but at least it was dry. Autumn was slowly setting in, but so far the endless and dreary grey days had not yet made an appearance. The walk to the supermarket was quick. I had been living in the same residential area for a few years and knew all the alleys connecting the cul-de-sacs. This was why I loved walking and cycling places; there was always a more direct route.
The small suburban supermarket was deserted, apart from a bored teenage employee playing on his phone behind the till, and an ambitious cleaner hoping for an early night. Most people would be out drinking at this time, having gone straight from the offices to the pubs. At least this would be a quick in-and-out then; my movie was waiting.
As I started my beeline to the sweets aisle through the fruit and vegetable aisle, I noticed a woman in a long black coat standing in the middle of the aisle with her cart, appearing slightly lost. She was holding a bag with two leeks and was looking around for something or someone.
As I approached to pass her, she turned to me and mumbled: "Oh, you don't work here." She looked away quickly, as if she was either terribly shy or in a huge rush to be on her way. She did not speed off, however, so I assumed it was the first.
"No, I don't, I'm afraid," I replied politely, "I think the kids who are on shift are all either playing on their phones or secretly smoking out the back."
"Great," she sighed, slapping the leeks across the palm of her hand. She glanced at me, pale blue eyes meeting mine for just a split second, before she turned away again slightly, her shoulder-length blond hair obscuring part of her face. I couldn't help noticing how beautiful she was.
I never thought it would be this difficult
, the woman with the leeks thought.
Let's just cook a healthy meal from scratch; that will make me feel good. Famous last words. I can't even get the ingredients right! I have no idea how much of this stuff I need; 2 cups, what does that even mean?
And of course there isn't a soul around to ask. Are supermarkets always like this? I'm glad it's so quiet, but I could really use a little help to figure this one out. Although, would one of those kids who work here even know? My kids for sure wouldn't. Now that they're all off to uni, they'll have to learn soon enough.
Maybe I should just leave it. I can find other ways to empower myself than cooking and buying groceries...
"Thanks anyway," she said, as she turned to walk away.
There was something about her tone and her body language that made me want to help her, whatever it was she needed. She looked so deflated, as if all her hopes and dreams had just been crushed by my lack of an employee uniform.
"Hey, but I do come here a lot. I practically live in the sweets aisle. It's a bit of squatter's situation, actually. They're not very happy about it," I started, rambling; overdoing it in attempt to keep her from walking away. Get to the point. "Maybe I can help you? What do you need?"
Maybe you can... You don't look like much of a cook either, but at least you'll know how this supermarket thing works.
She glanced at me again with her captivating pale eyes and smiled. "Oh, it's nothing, really. I was just looking for the scales to weigh these."
She slapped the leeks across her palm again. Somehow it made my knees go weak, watching the fortunate vegetables impact with the elegant hand in such a deliberate action; it triggered inappropriate associations in my imaginative mind.
"You only weigh them when you get to the check-out," I replied, banishing envious thoughts towards the leeks or the hand.
What? That doesn't make any sense. How do you know how much you're going to buy? Or do people just magically know how many leeks fit in a cup?!
