I hate shopping for one person almost as much as I hate cooking for one. Other than the staples I never buy more than a week's worth of food, who knows, I might croak, and I go out to eat at least once a week. It's my treat for having made through another week without hurting anyone. For most of my items I always go to the same store, it took me long enough to know where things are in this store, why would I want to start over? The neighbor lady runs all over town for the BOGO offers or milk on sale for twenty cents less, she spends more on fuel running around than if she shopped in one place.
Unlike so many people these days I am aware of what's around me, I don't have my face buried in a damn phone. Smart phones, one of the best and one of the worst inventions of the 20
th
century. Being middle aged I remember the days when you held your head high and took in your surroundings, anymore, people are afraid to look you in the eye or smile. Might offend someone ... fuck off.
I'd noticed the same car on the outer limits of the lot three weeks in a row, not beat up or run down looking, maybe 10 years old, it had out of state plates.
Curiosity got the better of me as I detoured from my normal parking area and walked past the car, the back and passenger seat was piled with clothes and what looked to be personal items, the drivers seat laid back as though someone had slept in it. Walking into the store I scanned each store employee I saw, wondering if one of them might fit the profile of somebody who sleeps in their car.
Not being able to find the brand of popcorn I liked I went looking for purple hair. This girl knew where everything was, I mean everything. I found her on one of those step ladder type platform things they use for the upper shelves, walking toward her she smiled as she looked up and saw me.
"Good morning purple hair, your pest is back seeking input, you're my favorite person in this store." I said.
"You aren't a pest sir. What can I help you with?"
She was a breath of fresh air in my world, I'm a big hulking son of a bitch and people usually cower or walk away from me, not purple hair, she wasn't intimidated at all. I've always been tall, and like my old man I've always been what ma called *big boned*, in other words I was bulky. As I increased in age, I increased in body stature as well. Once the football and power lifting coaches were through with me, I also added bulk to the package. I never was a scrapper or fighter per se, at 6'4" and 285 pounds my size alone was usually enough intimidation to make anybody step back and think.
After showing me where the popcorn had been moved to (I hate reset's, might make things better for the store, sure screws it up for the customers) I thanked her and went on my way. Putting items away at home I thought of purple hair and how quickly she'd learned that store, I'd only seen her there about six weeks. A light bulb went on in my head, what if it's purple hair who's living in their car, I wouldn't be surprised.
Purple hair was at least 5'8", not heavy but not slender either, she has what I refer to as a stout body, what ma would have called good breeding stock. From what I can tell she seldom wears a bra and while the store smock covers that fact, if you watch carefully when she walks there's no doubt at all those girls are free. A narrow waist, cute ass, and long legs. Other than her purple hair the most prominent thing about her were the numerous piercings in her ears, a ring looking thing in her eyebrow, the little diamond looking thing in the corner of her lower lip and the stainless tongue stud. Not to mention the spider tatt across her neck and I wasn't sure what might be beneath her clothing.
Surprisingly she carries the look off quite well, I've seen others with multiple piercings that look like nothing more than somebody with a tackle box on their face. Her clothes are always clean, she doesn't smell, her hair may be purple but is always washed as well as her exposed body parts, I wondered, could she possibly be that clean and still live in her car? Being nosy and with nothing to do in particular I drove to the store after supper, wondering if she might be there. As I pulled into the lot, I noticed the car was gone, I was nearly out of apples, not wanting to waste the trip I went in to find the kind I like.
Walking back to my truck I noticed the car was back in the spot I'd seen it prior. What the hell? I had to go look, as I approached, I could see it was definitely purple hair. She lowered the window as she saw me, smiling she asked what I was doing at the store in the evening, I always shopped on Tuesday morning. I found myself thinking she's very observant. I explained that I'd noticed the car several weeks in a row and was curious who might be living in it.
"It's me, just purple hair. Don't have enough money saved for an apartment, so this has to do."
I chose to attempt being friendly, considering how big I am and that I'm an ex-con it was a huge step for me, "I was getting ready to have a frozen yogurt at Wild Honey, would you like to join me? My treat."
"That would probably be okay, you don't seem like a rapist or pervert."
Over a yogurt we got to know each other a little more. I'm 43, never been married, no I didn't have a live in girlfriend, no I'm not a serial killer, and I'm not married because I hadn't found the right one yet. She was 23, had lived in Lincoln, Nebraska, she'd left because her former boyfriend was a control freak and wouldn't leave her alone. She was able to get a transfer to this store a thousand miles away and she was saving for an apartment.
I enquired how she stayed so clean living in her car.
"I shower at the Y three times a week, the laundromat is a block from where I'm sleeping and I freshen up in the store before my shift. With the store being open 24 hours I have a bathroom available when I need it. The manager is aware of my situation and is okay with it for another two weeks, I'll have to figure something out by then."
Our small talk continued as we drove back to her car, parting I asked if she might tell me what her name was. Abagail, most people called her Abby, I told her mine was Leo. The more I thought about her dilemma the more I wondered if I should invite her to live in my home. I had four bedrooms, two of the extra's had beds and were open, then the questions of 'what if' began rolling through my head.