Midlife // Joji

Two

Today is Friday, which means the grocery store on the corner of  11th street brings in new items. So some of their older items go on sale to make room for new stuff. And I take advantage of their discounts.

Ever since my first taste of freedom, the grocery store has always been one of my favorite places to go. I've never been able to pin point why, but I can spend hours roaming every isle, studying every product.

If you couldn't tell, my life of free will is not an exciting one. Especially not since my uncle passed,  and his husband left for a new adventure filled life. Thomas's life of adventure means a new life of loneliness for me. I adopted a dog, thinking it would help. I love her, but she doesn't have to ability to speak.

I keep trying friends, I'm just not sure how I'm supposed to do it. I made some when i was in college, but they've all since graduated and moved away.

I met George a couple weeks ago, but I'm certain I talked far too much when I got high for him to ever want to be friends. I'm pretty sure I scared him off.

Growing up, for the most part my friends were my siblings, the rowdy kids two houses down and the ladies my grandmother crocheted with. Since I'm basically exiled, the odds of me ever getting to speak to them again are slim to none, it's not like I'd really want to anyway.

For the time being, I'm forced to get my necessary socialization from speaking to strangers at the grocery store, and Carlos at the bar.

My last stop for today's grocery trip was the chip isle. The other day I saw a billboard advertising for a new type of Doritos, sweet chili, I had to see if they were good or not. I grabbed the purple bag off the shelf.

"Excuse me, miss, are those any good?" A deep velvety voice spoke from behind me.

"I'm not sure I've never had them," I spoke, inspecting the bag. "They do sound good though," I turned to look at the person and was met with the brown eyes and shaggy dark hair of a certain someone.

He smiled, his fingers wrapped around the handle of the empty metal shopping cart.

"George!"

"Ella, I've been hoping to see you again." He said, smile still plastered on his cute little face. He kinda looked like he just rolled out of bed, his hair was a fluffy mess and he wore a black t-shirt and a grey pair of baggy sweats.

I scrunched my face up, basically in shock, "really?"

"Yeah, I actually went back to the bar a couple times, but I didn't see you there." He shrugged casually.

I managed to keep myself composed, but I wanted to jump up and down. He came looking for me.

I sighed, "Yeah I only show up on days that Carlos works. The other bar tenders don't tolerate how chatty I get."

He let out a deep chuckle, "yeah. That's actually what the bartenders said when I asked about you." He took a second to lick his lips. "And I didn't want to just show up at your apartment, I thought that would be weird. But you fell asleep and I had to meet with my producers in the morning so I couldn't hang around to get your number or anything."

He wasn't wrong. I talked for nearly three hours straight then crashed on the floor while watching Shark Tale, a movie I forced George to watch. That's why I assumed he'd never speak to me again.

I smiled. Hearing that George was wanting to spend time with me, even after being an annoying ball of energy for an entire night, was quite the confidence boost.