Today's Not Good for Company
1
Milk. Dish soap. Batteries. I pulled out the small shopping list I had brought to the grocery store, folded up and tucked into my wallet. At the moment the constructed piece of worn out leather was holding only about $23, a couple pennies and some old receipts. This happens to be all I'm living off to the end of this month, due to the minuscule paycheck I receive down at the outdated Stop 'n' Go.
I haven’t always been this way, sparing every cent I can get my hands on just to pay the bills every month. I did once have a good, nice paying job. I finished college, got a job fresh out of the classroom, and easily slid by month to month with extra money to spend. That was, until my life momentarily went downhill starting with a quick shot of whiskey and ending with a box filled to the brim with the common items you would bring to your work space. That was a different version of myself, and although I wouldn't mind being addicted to the burning sensation that the heavy liquor gives yet still having a good income, I'd take digging for pocket change and picking soda over a beer any day.
Although I assumed this trip would be an average, uninteresting run to get some necessities, I would soon realize this was more than the quick trip to Wal-Mart. As I was looking through the cleaning supply isle near the registers, I couldn't help but over hear when a woman's frantic voice echoed slightly through the store.
"What do you mean it's not accepting? It must be your machine. Try again." The woman must have been in her late fifties, wrinkles cresting her mouth and eyes as she talked. But when I looked up from scrummaging through the varieties of dish soap, it wasn't exactly the woman I was interested in. My eyes wandered a few feet behind her, a short, pale man resuming the next spot in line. Being a bit further away, I couldn't make out the details very well, but I knew a gorgeous boy when I saw him. His dark ebony hair against his porcelain skin, bringing out the best of his features. Blue-green, sea like eyes examined the scene in front of him, a slight furrow in his brow showing his peak of interest in the event.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry but you're going to have to use another method of payment." The cashier, with his calm exterior, politely explained to the agitated customer.
As the woman replied, she lowered her voice. "I don't have another method of payment. This certainly is not an error that has to do with my card, would you please just-"
"Um, excuse me?" The small man I'd checked out behind her stepped in with a kind and gentle voice. "I'll just take care of her groceries, if that would be okay?" He worded the sentence as more of a question before he swiftly pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it and taking out the necessary amount of cash for the concerned shoppers products.
"Oh goodness, thank you so much young man. You honestly don't need to do this for me, it's really okay." She was trying to sound sincere, but a hint of want- or maybe greed was still intertwined in her words.
The man smiled politely, shaking his head and said something along the lines of "It's really no worry at all."
And there, the conversation stopped.
I may not be a money hungry man, but with someone as good-looking as that boy, and seemingly a wealthy aspect to him, how could I not be sucked in? Suddenly behind me, I was bumped slightly by the shoulder of a passerby in the isle. It pulled me from my thoughts and I was back to reality, ideas swarming my brain. I quickly grabbed my brand of dish soap and added it to the batteries and milk in my hand held basket, making my way to the register. I was quick to take the next spot in line behind the attractive male, at the exact moment he pulled his wallet out once again. Subtly, I peaked over his shoulder and at the clear pocket which held the key to all my plans; his drivers license. I'd always had a knack for remembering numbers, so during the quick period of time his wallet was flipped open, I managed to read and memorize his date of birth and name; Kellin Quinn. A unique title to fit a unique looking man.
After the cashier finished checking out Kellin's items, he made a B-line out of the store, oddly avoiding all eye contact. As the cashier then began checking out my groceries, I was putting things together in my head. Thinking of all the ways I could make this mischievous encounter go smoothly. By the time the cashier- named Mark, I noticed- finished ringing me up, I practically had it all planned out.
So as I left the store that day, things were different. I entered as a broke, hopeless man, and departed with a small spark in my eye, and the figurative light bulb of an idea above my head. I had a feeling I would get to know this Kellin Quinn quite a bit more.
I haven’t always been this way, sparing every cent I can get my hands on just to pay the bills every month. I did once have a good, nice paying job. I finished college, got a job fresh out of the classroom, and easily slid by month to month with extra money to spend. That was, until my life momentarily went downhill starting with a quick shot of whiskey and ending with a box filled to the brim with the common items you would bring to your work space. That was a different version of myself, and although I wouldn't mind being addicted to the burning sensation that the heavy liquor gives yet still having a good income, I'd take digging for pocket change and picking soda over a beer any day.
Although I assumed this trip would be an average, uninteresting run to get some necessities, I would soon realize this was more than the quick trip to Wal-Mart. As I was looking through the cleaning supply isle near the registers, I couldn't help but over hear when a woman's frantic voice echoed slightly through the store.
"What do you mean it's not accepting? It must be your machine. Try again." The woman must have been in her late fifties, wrinkles cresting her mouth and eyes as she talked. But when I looked up from scrummaging through the varieties of dish soap, it wasn't exactly the woman I was interested in. My eyes wandered a few feet behind her, a short, pale man resuming the next spot in line. Being a bit further away, I couldn't make out the details very well, but I knew a gorgeous boy when I saw him. His dark ebony hair against his porcelain skin, bringing out the best of his features. Blue-green, sea like eyes examined the scene in front of him, a slight furrow in his brow showing his peak of interest in the event.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry but you're going to have to use another method of payment." The cashier, with his calm exterior, politely explained to the agitated customer.
As the woman replied, she lowered her voice. "I don't have another method of payment. This certainly is not an error that has to do with my card, would you please just-"
"Um, excuse me?" The small man I'd checked out behind her stepped in with a kind and gentle voice. "I'll just take care of her groceries, if that would be okay?" He worded the sentence as more of a question before he swiftly pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it and taking out the necessary amount of cash for the concerned shoppers products.
"Oh goodness, thank you so much young man. You honestly don't need to do this for me, it's really okay." She was trying to sound sincere, but a hint of want- or maybe greed was still intertwined in her words.
The man smiled politely, shaking his head and said something along the lines of "It's really no worry at all."
And there, the conversation stopped.
I may not be a money hungry man, but with someone as good-looking as that boy, and seemingly a wealthy aspect to him, how could I not be sucked in? Suddenly behind me, I was bumped slightly by the shoulder of a passerby in the isle. It pulled me from my thoughts and I was back to reality, ideas swarming my brain. I quickly grabbed my brand of dish soap and added it to the batteries and milk in my hand held basket, making my way to the register. I was quick to take the next spot in line behind the attractive male, at the exact moment he pulled his wallet out once again. Subtly, I peaked over his shoulder and at the clear pocket which held the key to all my plans; his drivers license. I'd always had a knack for remembering numbers, so during the quick period of time his wallet was flipped open, I managed to read and memorize his date of birth and name; Kellin Quinn. A unique title to fit a unique looking man.
After the cashier finished checking out Kellin's items, he made a B-line out of the store, oddly avoiding all eye contact. As the cashier then began checking out my groceries, I was putting things together in my head. Thinking of all the ways I could make this mischievous encounter go smoothly. By the time the cashier- named Mark, I noticed- finished ringing me up, I practically had it all planned out.
So as I left the store that day, things were different. I entered as a broke, hopeless man, and departed with a small spark in my eye, and the figurative light bulb of an idea above my head. I had a feeling I would get to know this Kellin Quinn quite a bit more.
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