sifting through your polka dot make up bag,
it is a coin purse now, index finger stirs the
metallic mix of money, you pause to see if
it’s a dime, it is, but it’s a Canadian dime.
I know because you mumble out loud or
maybe you’re telling the clerk who begins
to get impatient waiting for the exact change.
Ninety six cents to go with the four ones
pulled moments earlier, straightened and
placed carefully all in the same direction.
You don’t want any more coins in your purse.
You are probably the same lady who still
writes checks to pay for groceries each week.
We jostle our items, shift our weight, sigh,
check our watches; sending hurry up signals.
You still fumble, turning older as you act like
the old lady you once feared turning into with
sunshine abused skin, perm depleted hair, and
gravelly smoker’s voice. Yet you smile because
you still feel beautiful after so many years.
I look away to keep from becoming infuriated,
I place my coffee and apple fritter down before
I consider walking out or walking out with them
and not paying, to see what would happen or if
anyone would even notice. I distract myself to
fight my frustrations and my derelict cravings.
I stare at all the packs of gum on the shelves.
Whitening gum, breath freshening gum,
energy gum, plaque removing gum, and
I wonder, whatever happened to Chiclets?
it is a coin purse now, index finger stirs the
metallic mix of money, you pause to see if
it’s a dime, it is, but it’s a Canadian dime.
I know because you mumble out loud or
maybe you’re telling the clerk who begins
to get impatient waiting for the exact change.
Ninety six cents to go with the four ones
pulled moments earlier, straightened and
placed carefully all in the same direction.
You don’t want any more coins in your purse.
You are probably the same lady who still
writes checks to pay for groceries each week.
We jostle our items, shift our weight, sigh,
check our watches; sending hurry up signals.
You still fumble, turning older as you act like
the old lady you once feared turning into with
sunshine abused skin, perm depleted hair, and
gravelly smoker’s voice. Yet you smile because
you still feel beautiful after so many years.
I look away to keep from becoming infuriated,
I place my coffee and apple fritter down before
I consider walking out or walking out with them
and not paying, to see what would happen or if
anyone would even notice. I distract myself to
fight my frustrations and my derelict cravings.
I stare at all the packs of gum on the shelves.
Whitening gum, breath freshening gum,
energy gum, plaque removing gum, and
I wonder, whatever happened to Chiclets?
6 comments:
I love the ending! That is so how my mind works....the classic "My name is...oh, look! A squirrel!" :)
Are Chiclets really no more?
YES! The frustration of the checkpout that's so universal these days. I could feel your stress Lorenzo. Lovely.
excellent!
i used to wonder the same thing about certs. you know, "with retsen". and what the hell was "retsen"?
anyway - "you act like
the old lady you once feared turning into" is great - we probably all have a bit of that pop up from time to time - i like this.
LOL, I wrote a check for my groceries last week!! I didn't give it a thought, I guess from now on I will never do it without thinking of this post! Good one!
I love this post, mostly, because I know that woman and I know those thoughts; but you put it down very well.
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