Dear Cashier at My Local Grocery Store,
We've had some good times, have we not? I remember when I first moved to town and I bought a map from your store. You were working the register and, putting my merchandise together with my scared bunny look, you reached out to me. "New to town?" you said. While I don't remember my response (no doubt it was sparkling), I do recall a wave of comfort overtaking me, for I knew then that I had found my grocery store. Not just a grocery store, but a cashier, too.
Every week since, you've been my partner in comestibles, libations, and sundry goods. Lest I think our anonymous friendship was one-sided, you soon proved how you treasured my company. Whether it was the way you'd bust my chops for my id whenever I bought beer or the thumbs up you gave me that time I bought some condoms, I felt confident that I was one of your favorite customers. I didn't need a notarized certificate or an embroidered sash to prove it; our 30 seconds of camraderie each week was enough.
But then on Sunday, something changed. Allow me to refresh your memory. I pulled into the store parking lot, in search of Cherry Coke and shredded cheese. When I exited my vehicle, I noticed you and a coworker standing outside the store, taking your breaks. I began to saunter towards your direction to toss out a greeting and a playful rejoinder to get back to work when you leaned over to your associate and whispered something. He looked up at me, stifled a giggle, and looked back down. Now, I do not know what it was said; for all I know, it could've been the ending of a delightful anecdote or a gleefully wicked pun. I get the suspicion though that it was a snide comment at my expense. Was it about my hair? My dental hygiene? The way I inexplicably continue to buy pinto beans? This exchange has tormented me since I witnessed it, and I demand answers.
I am more than willing to attribute this slight to you waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but I hope you notice the pains I took to avoid the express lane that day. Exact change from me is a distant memory until a full apology is issued.
Good Day to You, Sir,
Cody Wayne Maxwell Powell
Posted by Cody at May 18, 2004 6:16 PM