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.
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