Shopping with Encounters

You know, I feel rather empowered to realize that I'm contributing the the havoc of DNA.Styx's computing day...

I have also been called in to cover a friend's shift at work both Friday and Sunday. Yay. Dang 60 hour week!
~

I was attacked today in the grocery store. It was right between the green peppers and the Italian squash. I wish it hadn't happened; now my memory twinges at the sight of them and I don't eat enough veggies as it is. I had one of those silly little baskets and almost dropped it. If you carry a little basket, you're not as likely to put everything in the cart when you're hungry, right? So the only things to roll across the floor would've been the grapes.

I should have clocked him with it. Come to think of it, it wouldn't have been very satisfying with just grapes. This is when you think of a comeback- four hours after it would have done any good. We were near the potatoes. Ten pounds would have been just fine. I hadn't even heard him coming up behind me, and by the time my back stiffened in protest it was too late.

Light quick hands, brushing past my hips to clasp around my waist. He must have towered behind me. At least, by the time he whispered in my ear I couldn't feel him against my shoulders. "Solitary shopping... and going back to an empty house?"

I looked down in my basket. Everyone was ignoring us save for the zucchini spectating, though we must have looked like lovers. He was right. I had gone for the smallest bag of seedless red. The sort left behind after being halved by little blue haired ladies with pursed dogs. Oh, and I had forgotten the bananas. Two of them. It's strange, but in those useless self defense classes they never tell you to buy double produce.

I turned to jamb the basket between us and run for the hills. Or at least the carrots. Come to think of it, there was someone with blue hair there right now. We could compare grapes. But his damn arms were a lot longer than mine, and it turned into a dance. Looking up, I discovered that I knew him.

"What are you doing here?" Oh dear. And hissing is just so mature. I thought I left this creep in high school, but one glance and I've regressed to preteen behavior. I gave the basket an extra push. Abruptly. How rewarding to hear the little puff of air. In the face of his nonchalance, as well.

His eyes flicked to my left hand, and back to my face. "Divorced?" His little smirk spoke volumes. It always had. If only it was external, I could have him arrested for assault. He did let go and step back. It felt more like an attack. One more raked gaze and he turned to go. "I am so sorry to hear about it." The set of his shoulders said he'd see me home.

Bastard. I didn't even have to go to a reunion to hate his guts again. My good old pal, Mr. Loneliness.