11:36pm And I Am Defending Myself At The Grocery Store Checkout Counter
“Hi, how ya doin? I’m fine, thanks.
Yep, found everything I was looking for just fine.
Yes, I do have a rewards card. Here you go [hands card to cashier].
Working the late shift, huh? Bummer. Maybe you’ll get lucky and get home befor—
Why are you looking at me like that? My eyes? What about them? Oh. They’re probably bloodshot because I’ve been wearing these contact lenses since 8am, so my eyes are really dry…you’re still looking at me like that. Oh! You think I’m high! No no no, I’m not high. Never have been, actually. I don’t smoke at all.
You’re still giving me that look. Is it because I was giggling and singing in line? It was Mr. Mister! Their music is patently absurd! Don’t act like you weren’t singing along too. They’re hilarious! Taaaake these broken wiiings! And learn to fly again, learn to live….so…free…
Ok, fine. That’s not helping my case. But seriously, I’m not on drugs.
Why am I at the grocery store at almost midnight on a Sunday? Because I don’t have anything for breakfast tomorrow. Look! Milk. A couple boxes of cereal. A 24 pack of bottled water. What’s so suspicious about that? Nothi—Why am I so paranoid? Paranoid?! I’m not paranoid! I just don’t like that you’re giving me a look like I’m some pothead scavenging for munchies. You’re paranoid!
What’s that? Why am I buying so many what? Oh. Why am I buying 4 packages of Soft Batch cookies? Because they were on sale, maaaaan. No, I wasn’t planning on sharing any.
*sigh* Ok. Whatever. You win. I’m stoned out of my mind. I don’t even know where I am right now. Just give me my damn total already.
Ugh.
It’s a debit card. Thanks. You have a nice night too.
[Mumbling under breath as I walk to the exit]
[As the automatic sliding doors open] I’M NOT HIGH. I JUST LIKE COOKIES. AND I TAKE IT BACK, I HOPE YOU HAVE A TERRIBLE NIGHT. I HATE YOU.”
