I. the grocery
"You stay right here, okay?"
Mom gives me a stern look for a brief moment and then turns away to resume her search for biscuits far too sweet for my taste. With my fingers drumming the cart handle, I puff my cheeks in boredom, then letting all the air built up escape afterwards. I can hear the faint beat of god-knows-what song from the speakers installed in the ceiling, and I bob my body up and down as I listen.
My eyes scan the area, trying to look for something interesting, but lo and behold, no dramatic scenes are happening and I am so goddamn out of my head.
"'Scuse me," someone from behind me calls. I whip my head around to face the speaker and find a middle-aged woman and her son; who, by the way, looks really cute. Yeah, I know. I liked him based on his appearance; god don't strike me down. Momentarily dumbfounded, the woman ends up having to fake a cough to catch my attention. I look at her with my mouth agape, and it took me six seconds to realize my cart was blocking bags of those tasty Lays chips.
I scramble to get a grip on the handle. "Oh my god-I mean gosh," I manage. "So sorry!"
My overly-dramatic and hasty departure ends up with me accidentally bashing my knee against the cart and losing my footing. I stumble on the ground with an embarrassing thump, and the cute guy and his mother looked at me with pity-I mean worry on their faces. Before they can even reach and hold a hand out to me, I rose from the ground in my awkward glory and laughed it off. "Haha, I hope you get your Lays! Thank you!"
With quick feet, I try to exit the aisle, but I manage to knock a few Clover chips on the ground. I couldn't stifle my exhausted groan. As I kneel down to gather the fallen products, I think about how I could almost feel the sympathetic stares they were eyeing me with. Heavy eleven seconds pass, and I finally rectify the situation. Pathetically, if I do say so myself.
After finding a decent spot to mourn the death of my dignity, I run my hands over my face and groaned. "What the hell was that? I hope you get your Lays?" While I was contemplating on my idiocy, a familiar face finally pops out from the biscuit aisle, and I quietly called out to her with a miserable whisper. "Mommy."
The elusive mom finally turns to look at the source of the pitiful mumble, and not to her surprise, she finds her daughter waving at her in a desperate manner.
No, that P.O.V. does not mean a shift in perspectives. It was for comedic effect. Like those documentaries you see on National Geographic, but instead of an enthusiastic and eloquent narrator, it's a teenager with a voice cracking every two syllables.
Radiant and glimmering, my hero returns from her journey to collect some plain biscuits, and she drops the contents she has gathered into the cart. Thank GOD. We can escape the possibility of another embarrassing predicament with the two Good Samaritans an aisle away. My gaze drops to the items that were sloppily thrown inside the cart, and my intense need to make things look organized manipulates the movements of my hands to position them neatly. I realize mid-cleanup that everything in our grocery checklist was covered, and I pumped my fists in the air. Not so discreetly, considering the fact that I received the perplexed eyes of nearby shoppers.
"Mother, we have everything we need," I whisper as I lean sideward to quietly remind her. "We should get to a line quick."
She snaps her fingers, eyes shining. "Good idea."
"Duh."
---
NUH.
This is not what I planned for.
Just two carts away from the cashier, I whirl my head in different directions, trying to locate my mother. She's the one with the plastic card probably more valuable than my life; why am I the one sweating bullets? Dirt poor and on the edge of panic at the moment, I bite my lip and mutter profanities under my breath. If my mom wanted a bag of Gardenia, then I'd gladly offer my services no matter how unreliable I may seem!
Her argument that I was prone to getting lost was a reasonable one though.
I watch the couple in front of me heave their plastic bags away, and I gulped. At first, the idea didn't seem so bad after I experienced a brief moment of soul-crushing despair at knowing I'm going to have to face line-waiting alone, but now, my head was sifting through all the possible dialogues I will have with the cashier. Improv didn't sound so bad either. Pretend theater back when I was twelve-years-old certainly seemed like good practice. I can do this.
"Next!"
Oh god, who the hell am I kidding?
I hesitantly push the cart forward with my intense grip on the handle, and the cashier eyed me weirdly and started running the contents of the rusty metal wagon through the barcode scanner. I couldn't help but notice her taking glances around the store, possibly looking for my guardian because she probably noticed my watering eyes. Sorry pal, you're stuck with me until my mom finishes her pilgrimage for enriched, white bread.
A minute passes, and the cashier is down to four more cups of strawberry yogurt and instant coffee. Her head tilts upward slightly and gives me a look as she purses her lips together. I returned this with an awkward shrug and put out a thumbs up.
Two more cups of yogurt left.
Then, like an angel slowly descending onto the Earth, my mom appeared with a plastic bag of bread. Tears sting my eyes, and I felt like I could collapse at any moment.
But not here. Maybe later.
"Oh, just one more," she says as she places the bag of bread down on the counter. The cashier's eyes relax, and with a sigh of relief, she scans the bread and the remaining items. As the total price appears on the screen, mother dearest fishes out her card from her purse and places it afterwards for the cashier to take.
The swift slide of the card against the reader indicated the end of this nerve-wracking experience. I visibly relax and manage a weak smile.
"Thank you, almighty omnipotent being in the heavens!" I cry melodramatically, half-tempted to drop to my knees.
Not wanting to spoil the moment, my mom just stares at me. That was not a good sign.
I indulged anyway.
"Uh, I may have forgotten to get some noodles."
