by Rae Matthews
Liam: How about 6 o’clock?
Ava: Sounds good how about I meet you at Bubba Joe’s?
I know what you’re thinking; a place called Bubba Joe’s doesn’t exactly scream first date material. But its name is very deceiving. Bubba Joe’s is actually one of the top-rated restaurants in our area. The owner, Bubba, caters to everyone with a menu that won’t break the pocketbook. What’s nice is you can walk in and get a steak dinner and then go next door for a few drinks and dancing with a live DJ and that never fails to bring a good time.
Liam: Sounds like we got ourselves a first date.
I can’t help the glowing smile that has formed on my face as I read his message, and I can’t believe a guy I met no more than an hour ago has this effect on me especially when I’m PMS-ing.
Staring at Liam’s messages it hits me like a frozen chicken nugget. I might have to forgive Sue; I don’t want to because I've gone through a whole lot of shit tonight. But, there it is. If she hadn’t used all but one of my Tampons, I wouldn’t have had been here tonight and I wouldn’t have met Liam. Meeting him has kind of been worth going through all the crap. Damn it. I have to forgive her don’t it?
I take a deep breath as I close Liam messages an open my messages to Sue then begin to type.
Ava: So... I think I forgive you. I don’t want to but I just met the most amazing guy. I can’t wait to tell you all about it. So.... yeah... I will call you tomorrow.
By the time I’m putting my phone back in my pocket I’m just getting to the chip aisle. I rushed through grabbing Cool Ranch Doritos, a bag of Cheetos and some Pringles along with I want to grab more but, at this point, I just want to grab some shit and get the hell out of Dodge. Next, I'm off to the candy aisle where I will again grab at random bags of candy in hopes that something good will land in my basket. However, I am careful to avoid the chocolate covered cherries. My whole body shakes thinking about my previous conversation.
Next, I rush down the pizza aisle and quickly grab two pepperoni pizzas, I think tonight is also an ice cream kind of night. Without hesitation, I race to the next aisle where the ice cream is and grab a carton of mint chocolate chip, I’m about to close the door when the black cherry carton calls out to me.
I feel I’m making record time as my basket gets heavier and heavier. Just one last thing, the tampons. I imagine Liam should be scoping out a different part of the store right now.
I waste no time moving past the register, glanced over to the cashier who seems to still be a bit intimidated by me as she throws her gaze to the floor as mine catches hers.
I’m almost home free when an elderly man in electric scooter turns out in front of me from the self-checkout lanes. I’m not sure if he saw me or just didn’t care if he almost runs me over. To be fair I was moving rather quickly making little noise. He still doesn’t seem to think I’m here so I slow my pace so as not startle him.
When I say, I slowed my pace, that's exactly what I meant. I went from warp speed to snail speed. I know these carts can go so much faster than he’s currently going but I suppose when you’re that old you’re not really in a hurry. Thinking about that, why is he here at this time of night, shouldn’t he be at home resting?
He finally turns down an aisle in front of me and on, any other day, I would turn down the aisle to see if he needed any help. However, given my experiences tonight, every bone in my body says run, run you stupid girl run.
Unfortunately, my mother raised me better than that so, I slow my pace even more to watch and see if he needs any help.
Of course, my first instinct is spot on when I see him try to stand to reach for a stick of deodorant from the top shelf. He frail body trembling as he reaches up.
“No, no, please let me,” I offer as I walk toward the man.
“Oh aren’t you a sweet young lady.”
“It’s my pleasure, really,” I smile.
“Which one did you want?”
“I would like the original Old Spice, if you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely”
I reach above him as he takes his seat back in the scooter. I point to one of the Old Spice options that has a red label and says Original on it. He nods his head so I grab one and place it in the front basket of the scooter.
“Did you need anything else?”
“Actually—”
Fuck, are you kidding me? I was just trying to be polite and, instead of saying no thank you and moving along, he is actually going to take me up on my offer. Ug! I just want to go home!
“What else did you need?” I ask respectfully.
“Just a couple of things if you’d be so kind. I would really appreciate it.”
“Of course I’m happy to help.”
He starts to move his scooter forward and I follow slowly, occasionally he points to an item and I grab it from the shelf.
So far we have a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a new razor, shaving cream, and shampoo. I think we’re done when he stops in front of the condoms. God, please no, I cannot help this man buy condoms. What does he need condoms for, anyway? I’m guessing any woman that he would be with would’ve already gone through menopause. Oh god, no, please don’t tell me he’s having sex. He looks like he’s about eighty.
“Sweetie, could you be a dear and grab the Yours and Mine box of KY jelly?”
Oh sweet muffin tits, I think I’m going to throw up on this man’s lap. It’s not just that he is asking me to grab him a bottle of KY, it’s the fact that he said it so nonchalantly, as if this is something completely normal. And, yes, I get that it might be normal in his world, but it certainly is not in mine.
Using everything I have not to give this man my partially-digested dinner, I quickly grab the box and toss it into the basket on the front of his scooter while avoiding eye contact.
“So is that it?” I ask quickly ,praying he’s not going to ask me to grab the butt plug that is all of a sudden staring at me.
“Just one more thing if you don’t mind, can you walk back with me to grab a bottle of sparkling wine?”
“Oh I’m sorry, they don’t sell alcohol this late at night.”
“That’s okay, Sweetie, I can’t have the real stuff anyway. Too many medications. I need the nonalcoholic variety.”
I just can’t catch a break.
“Of course I would be happy to grab one for you. Do you want to wait here and I’ll be right back with it in a minute?”
“No, I can go with you just in case there’s a variety to choose from.”
First thing tomorrow morning I’m throwing all of my morals away, no more of this Good Samaritan crap.
After what feels like twenty minutes later, we’re finally rolling into the aisle with the nonalcoholic wine, aka sparkling apple juice selection. To my surprise there are actually five different kinds, you can choose from sparkling white grape, red grape, rosé grape, apple, and even grapefruit.
The man takes a few moments to look at each bottle, his gaze moving from one bottle to the next while telling me that he has a special date planned for the new Lady that came into the nursing home tonight. He informs me that it’s pretty cutthroat there so he couldn’t wait until morning to gather supplies. In case you are wondering, it's three men to each woman in his nursing home and, if you don’t claim a new gal quickly, you're out of luck. About the time he finishes his explanation, he finally decides to get both a sparkling white and sparkling red grape since he is not sure which she will like best. If he hadn’t picked soon, I was fully prepared to break my rule on not breaking my bank account and buying him each and every bottle on the shelf.
After placing the bottle in the basket for him, I once again ask if he needs anything else. Why would I do that you might wonder? Well, it’s because I can’t help myself. My mom always told me to help others in need because one day I might be that person. Today I just hope I am never that woman that all the men in the nursing home are chasing after with a bottle of KY Jelly.
His last request is to
escort him to the checkout then help him to the taxi that is waiting for him outside. I really wanted to say no and offer to have the cashier get someone to help him, but I couldn’t do it. He is, after all, a sweet man who just needs my help a little longer. And really, I’ve been here damn near all night as it is. What’s another ten or fifteen minutes?
When we arrive at checkout number five, I’m happy to see nobody is in line ahead of us, andthe cashier lady is patiently waiting. I immediately unload the man’s basket onto the conveyor belt. She quickly scans each item in places them into one of the plastic bags with a smile plastered on her face, not saying a word about the collection of products, but still avoiding eye contact with me.
The man slowly pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and carefully counts out the bills needed to pay. The cashier politely takes the cash from him and makes change, handing it back to him.
“Did you want me to check you out also?” she asks looking at my basket still on my arm.
“Actually I’m not quite finished shopping, I stopped to help this gentleman. Would you mind if I left my basket with you while I helped him outside?”
“Not a problem at all ma’am and I promise we will not put your items away again.”
I force myself to give her a nod and a smile. I’m still holding a grudge from earlier. I mean really, she couldn’t even poke her head in the bathroom to see if I was still there? But whatever, when I am home in my bed I will get over it.
The cashier takes my basket and sets it behind her register until I return. The man begins scooting towards the exit while I follow. Thankfully, he’s decided to use a faster speed so it doesn’t take as long to get outside. At first glance I don’t see a taxi waiting, but thankfully I hear an engine start and see lights turn on a moment later. As a black four-door sedan pulls up in front of us, I’m a little confused since he said that he had a taxi waiting.
“Sir, I thought you said you had the Taxi waiting for you ... this is a Town Car.”
“Taxi, Town Car, they’re all the same to me.”
“If you say so.” I say, raising my eyebrows and nodding my head.
“Did you get everything you needed Mr. Joe?” the driver asks.
“I sure did and this sweet girl assisted me,” the man tells him.
The driver looks to me and smiles. “Glad to hear it, sir.”
Sir? This guy is talking about being in a nursing home and he has a driver that calls him sir? Why doesn’t he live at home and just have a personal nurse? He seems to be able to afford it.
I watch as the driver helps Mr. Joe into the back the car and then moves to open the trunk. I take that as my cue to grab the bags and bring them to him. The man of course protests but it’s too late and it’s only three bags. Once I hand over the bags to his driver, I take that to mean my job with him is done.
“It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Joe. I hope you have a lovely time with your new friend.”
“Thank you, young lady. You were a great help. Hey, Jimmy, could you tip the lady for me? Two should do it,” Joe calls to the driver.
“Oh please, that is not necessary, really. I was happy to help,” I argue, waving my hands and backing away.
“I insist,” Joe calls from the car.
I watch as the driver approaches me while pulling out his wallet. I can hear my mom screaming in my head to refuse any monetary compensation for a good deed but really its two dollars and I don’t feel like arguing anymore.
Jimmy pulls out two bills from his wallet, then folds them before extending his hand to me. I nod and call out a thank you to Joe once again. Jimmy nods toward me, gives me a smirk then walks back to the driver side and gets in. A second later they are pulling away with me waving them off.
Once they are gone, I unfold the bills to find it’s not the two dollars like I assumed it would be, it is two hundred dollars. My jaw drops and I want to pee my pants. TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS! For helping someone who could be my own grandpa do some shopping? What the heck is going on tonight? I have to be on some crazy TV show. I want to run after them, this has to be a mistake, and then Jimmy’s smirk comes to mind. He folded the bills so I couldn’t see what they were, then he handed them to me and didn’t linger. This was no mistake, this is for real. My chest tightens and I want to cry right now.
After returning Joe’s scooter to the charging area, I wipe the few tears that fell from my eyes and walk back through the giant sliding glass doors prepared to grab my basket, go get my tampons, and get the hell out of here. It has been a night to remember, but now I just want to go home.
That is until I see the shoplifter Liam and I saw walking in my direction with the store manager not far behind. The woman walks at a normal pace with a cool expression on her face and a single plastic bag in her hand. I suppose if you are going to be in here that long you should at least buy something and, if you are a repeat shoplifter, it must be easy to hide the guilt from your face. Take me for example. I would get caught just thinking about stealing because my dad says I have a horrible poker face.
As the woman gets closer to the door I find a loaf of bread near the produce section to look at. I have a direct line of sight to watch the show if I stay here. Is it wrong that I really want a chair and bag of popcorn right now?
I have to use all my strength not to stare at them like I know what is about to happen. In an attempt to distract myself I pick up two loaves of French bread and pretend to examine them while facing their general direction. I am a genius. Maybe I missed my calling and should be a detective, or work for the CIA or something. The thought makes me giggle, that is until I see the shoplifter cross the threshold of the doors.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” the manager calls to the woman.
I watch as the shoplifter turns towards the female manager, the cool, calm expression still plastered on her face.
“Yeah?” The woman answers.
“Could I ask you to please accompanying me back into the store?”
“May ask why?”
Wow, this thief is good. She is being incredibly polite, her stance is non-threatening, and her face remains cool as a cucumber. Meanwhile, my skin is crawling with excitement, my hands are now squeezing tightly around the bread, guess I get to buy them now, and my stance is ready to pounce.
“We can discuss it in my office.”
“Then I will have to decline your offer.”
“It wasn’t really an offer, I need you to accompany me back into the store, please.”
“Make me,” the shoplifter clips.
And here is when things are about the get good, I can just feel it. Her stance changes from non-threatening to defensive bordering on hostile. Her arms, which were once casually by her side, are now crossed in front of her chest, her right leg is extended forward with her weight pushed onto her left leg. Looking at the woman, she’s obviously either going to attack the manager or take-off running, at least according to the countless episodes of Blue Bloods and Castle I’ve watched. They’ve made me an expert, in my opinion.
“Excuse me,” The manger puffs.
“You heard me; unless you plan to explain why you’re detaining me you have no right to force me to stay.”
“No one is forcing you and I am not the police so I’m not the detaining you, I am simply asking you to join me back in the store.”
“And I’m telling you no.”
“Then we can stand here until the police arrive and they will detain you.” The manager explains and she two crosses her arms in front of her chest.
The shoplifter’s eyes widen, even at my distance, I can see her breathing quickens. There seems to be a bit of a standoff happening. I am so excited that I can barely contain myself. I feel like a kid at Christmas who finally caught Santa coming down the chimney.
“What’s going on?” A familiar voice calls from behind me.
I turned to see Liam holding his partially-filled basket and staring at the two women.
“Remember when I asked if we wer
e going to tackle the shoplifter?” I tease.
“Yeah”
I smile. “Well, I think she’s going to get tackled, just not by us.”
Liam immediately starts shaking his head. I’m guessing by his reaction this is nothing new in his world, but for me this will be the third-best thing to happen to me tonight. First being that I met Liam, the second that I managed to earn $200 dollars while shopping. I know my friends are already not going to believe the night I’ve had, and this will just be the icing on the cake. I should take pictures to prove it happened.
The women continue to stare at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to make their move, I suppose. I think this is a perfect time to pull out my phone and open my camera app.
My excitement grows when I see a squad car drive past the doors. A moment later a single police officer strolls through the door, his hands resting on his utility belt. I can’t help but feel he should’ve called for backup.
“Ladies,” the office greets with a head nod.
“Hello Officer, my name is Barb and I am the store manager, We have reason to believe this woman shoplifted and is so far, refusing to cooperate,” the manager explains.
“Ma’am, can I get your name?” He directs his question to the shoplifter.
“It’s Rhonda and I didn’t steal anything,” she answers calmly.
I feel this is the calm before the storm. There is no way this is going to stay civil for long.
“Okay, I understand that. However, Barb seems to think you did, so if you would allow me to search your bag and person we could probably get this cleared up pretty quickly,” he offers.
“No, I certainly do not consent to any type of search and, unless you’re arresting me, I believe I’m free to go,” Rhonda retorts.
“Barb, do you have any proof that Rhonda stole anything?”
“I have my secret shopper who personally witnessed it.”
“Would I be able to speak with him or her?”
That’s when Rhonda makes her move. She throws her plastic bag at the police officer, hitting him in the face, then runs back into the store. I’m not sure why, other than because the officer was between her and the door but she definitely could have swung around him.