Riley Park (2009)
“It’s so busy it must be double-Airmiles day or something. But I don’t need a cart—I’m not shopping.
I go to Rubee’s checkout line. She’s not there. I head to express because sometimes she works there. But she’s not in the express line. So I go from line to line, checking each one for Rubee. She’s not there.
Maybe she hasn’t started her shift. I go to the coffee counter and order a coffee.
The girl behind the counter says, “Would you like that to go?”
I turn to see some empty seats at the tables.... “No, I’ll have it here. So not in a paper cup. A regular cup. You know.”
“A mug?” She smiles.
A mug. I try to smile back. “Yes, a mug. That’s what I meant.”
She smiles at me as she makes it. I pay, but when I go to pick up the mug, my hand shakes so badly that I have to set it down. I slop coffee on the counter.
“Sorry,” I say.
The girl grabs a cloth and wipes up the spill. “It happens to me all the time.”
It doesn’t happen to me. Or it didn’t use to happen.MoreLess
I go to Rubee’s checkout line. She’s not there. I head to express because sometimes she works there. But she’s not in the express line. So I go from line to line, checking each one for Rubee. She’s not there.
Maybe she hasn’t started her shift. I go to the coffee counter and order a coffee.
The girl behind the counter says, “Would you like that to go?”
I turn to see some empty seats at the tables.... “No, I’ll have it here. So not in a paper cup. A regular cup. You know.”
“A mug?” She smiles.
A mug. I try to smile back. “Yes, a mug. That’s what I meant.”
She smiles at me as she makes it. I pay, but when I go to pick up the mug, my hand shakes so badly that I have to set it down. I slop coffee on the counter.
“Sorry,” I say.
The girl grabs a cloth and wipes up the spill. “It happens to me all the time.”
It doesn’t happen to me. Or it didn’t use to happen.MoreLess
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