Julianne's Story

Banana Man

The line was long, and although she saw several associates moving from here to there, only two check-outs had a lit number above the station. With growing annoyance, she listened to the whir of the conveyer belt transporting grocery items mere inches. But, it wasn’t the conveyers fault it was slow, it was the movements of the clerk. Apparently, the long-chinned man had nowhere to be anytime fast. It was likely that he was in the ¾ stages of his shift—not fresh, but not nearly over either. He was a robot, mechanically performing actions necessary for transaction: scan, scan scan, check item, beep beep beep, scan…. Scan………. Scan…………

     If only she could signal to him that a sexual madmen (when did he become sex-crazed?) was after her. Maybe he would kick it into high gear a little more. Scan, scan, check item. Julianne tapped her feet and bit at the dry skin around her cuticles. What on earth was she doing buying two bananas with someone after her anyway?

     Before she could make a decision about leaving the line, the large man she met near the bananas lumbered into the check-out area. He had the look of a man who had completed his trip. He could be useful.

     The action of her fantasy drifted again—a wet lush green place replaced her surroundings. The cold sweat of escape turned hot and thick on her neck. One look at the man sunk her into a place of titillating excitation. The man chasing her be damned, she would have her turn with him. The glowing number above her turned into a canopy made from large leaves, and Julianne’s face took on the soft look of wanting. She no longer cared if he notices. She began to imagine herself slipping the shoulders of the cashmere sweater she wore down, down, down.

     She heard someone clear their throat. The noise was deep and phlegmy.

     Looking up, she realized it was her turn to check out. She looked at the clerk who was looking idly into the red scan light below him. She was glad he chose to avoid what would have been an uncomfortable meeting of eyes. She turned around to see the banana man standing right behind her. A quick fret and sudden realizing that any interaction with him at the store could not possibly be as pleasing at the one she could create, she lobbed the two bananas onto a gum display and took long strides to the door.

     Though she ran to the car alone, quickly bolted the locks alone, started the car alone, and drove to the next grocery store alone, the tingle of the man’s gaze never left her. He would definitely be a repeater in her mind.