People watching

Maybe it's because the author in me is always looking for the story behind the story, but this morning, when I got behind the man in line at the Circle K, and I noticed what he had on the counter, my writer's mind went all crazy and buzzy and stuff. I was suddenly left with a strange desire to whip out my laptop and start writing.

His purchases:

• 2 cans of Red Bull


• 1 pack of Excedrin


• 1 pack of gum


• 1 small roll of Tums

He smelled like a stale cigarettes and dive bar, and he looked like he'd slept in his clothes -- his hair a salt and pepper, matted jumble of greasy morning-after locks. He can't afford to call in sick ONE MORE DAY -- what with the giant child support check he's got to write this weekend. So, he's self-medicating his way through the morning, and MAN! Does the Circle K clerk have to talk so loud? It hurts to even smile as she wishes him a good morning, in an annoyingly sing-songy way.

Which makes me wonder ... what does the rest of the world think when they see MY purchases:

• A bottle of Fuji water


• A 24 oz. cup of Almond Amaretto coffee


• A Zone bar


• A banana

She left a trailing scent of floral sweetness as her perfume wafted through the door. She looked put together: pressed khakis, crisp white tee shirt, navy blue jacket, sandals that allowed her perfectly manicured toe nails peek out, all pink and shiny. She stood quietly in line, waiting, unsmiling, her arms full of water and banana and Zone bar and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. So unapproachable ... too put-together to be human. She even eats like she's perfect. And then, on closer inspection, visible clumps of cat hair cover those crisply pressed khakis ... and her jacket ... and her hair is sticking up in unruly, spikes, randomly. She's carrying extra weight too ... more than she should. Hmmmm... perhaps there is a hint of humanity there, under that untouchable exterior ...