Shopping at my local Trader Joe’s supermarket, I saw their shelves stocked high with boxes of High Fiber Cereal (yes, that’s the cereal name). It’s a delicious cereal, so I filled my cart with boxes- dozens of them, because Trader Joe’s cycles inventory, and will sometimes replace a product.
I blindly chose the shortest line at the registers, so it was only upon reaching the cashier that I saw how beautiful she was – elegant, but with the approachable, earthy mein of girls who appreciate Trader Joe’s. She started scanning my items: soy milk, yogurt, and then high fiber cereal – 18 boxes of it. A unique purchase: I felt compelled to justify myself.
“I’m blowing out my colon tonight,” I explained, with all the nonchalance I could muster.
Her laughter bubbled like a brook, but all I could feel was the scalding heat of her boiling scorn. How foolish I had been! To assume that she cared about my personal life – though all Trader Joe’s employees are wonderfully intent on hearing about it. What was I thinking?!
Perhaps my pained expression betrayed my dismay. She paused, her lucid green eyes searing mine.
“That’s such a coincidence! I blow out my colon weekly, as well!” Looking into the fiery supernova of her eyes was too intense. “Sometimes High Fiber Cereal is all I eat for weeks on end.”
I turned away, briefly: my heart bursting with love, like Alien from an astronaut’s chest.
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