Maybe someone cared about me once. I couldn't really know which 1, you know, maybe it was greater than 1. I just like to think it. I don't even mean in relationships, the romantic type of thing, but just someone.

There was this time, about 4 or 5 years ago I'd say, that I went to the store to buy the number 8. With a few bags of apples in my arms, with my hat at a jaunty angle, I though that it would be easy. I wanted it to be shiny blue this time, not like the matte red number that I bought the previous week. I tiptoed through the angled floors and walls, trying to remember how the place was arranged last time. It usually gave some sort of clue to the current floor plan.

I passed some of my neighbors, tipping my hat as a polite gesture. Most of them bounced out of my line of sight without so much as a wave. A few smiled back, calling me by my last name, and saying that we should have dinner sometime, discuss local political polls and weather. It was good to be recognized. I'd like to know that if the time ever came when I needed to count on someone, I could.

You'd think that a grocery store would want to sell product, right? I've read about big cities where they have stores open all night. At this place, though the prices were reasonable, they had squat for selection. Customer service was a joke, even if the cashiers were friendly. A couple of them were even lookers. I gave 1 of them my number once, in a fit of foolish fancy.

Found it. I took my purchase to the checkout line, and tried not to squirm. It was the cashier I'd given my number some time ago. I made my purchase, quietly smiling, and left. I didn't even look back this time.

On the back of my receipt was a note with a map. Sure looked like I had a hot date that night. I danced nearly all the way home, stopping off at lampposts to spin around and sing loud showtunes. I cleaned myself up, even polished my shoes, spent a lot of time on that. Who knew what could happen?

I went to the house as directed, bottle of bubbly in hand. I rang the door, and it opened to that lovely creature, all decked out. For me, I secretly hoped. I was invited into the small, yet comfortable home. We sat at the kitchen table and played tic-tac-toe for hours while drinking bubbly. It was entertaining, but I naturally had hoped for more. We made googly eyes at each other for a while. Then it happened. I brought out the day's earlier purchase, and 7 8 9..10, at 10 I went home, and we never saw each other again. No more grocery store, no more living at that house. Who knows what happened?

That's why I sit here now, feeling like pooh-pooh. I can always count on myself, but who knows when I'll ever find someone prime like that again.