Counters, Waiting, Watermelon, and Lucy’s

1) When we got off the Staten Island Ferry, there was a guy in a jean jacket repeating “lucy’s, lucy’s, lucy’s” over and over (that’s what repeating means I guess) and I thought, How interesting, selling acid (my interpretation was some kind of bastardized Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds code) right off the Ferry – is there that much of a demand for psychedelics on the commute?

Then my friend told me, They are loosies. Like a loose cigarette. And I was like oh, yeah, LOOSIES. I get it. Excuse me if they didn’t have a big loosie market when I was a smoker. I would have been buying loosies all the time.

And then she bought one. It was a Newport. She needed to it help her think where we should go before we went home.  Cigarettes fire up the synapses.

While she smoked, E and I watched a a toddler in (only) a pajama top play with a rat while his mother sat on an overturned bucket and I thought, that loosie is already working.

2) I was buying my standard grocery list at Schnucks:  bananas, apples, miniature ice cream drumsticks (the brand with the Chilly Willy looking character on the front), some La Croix, and some frozen pizza (this should also explain my malnutrition-chic look to those that know me) well anyway, unbeknownst to me, the pizza rang up at the wrong price. I didn't know this until I had been standing there re-swiping my debit card for about ten minutes.

“Naw, I gotta change the price. I need a manager.” The clerk tells me.

And I said, “Oh silly me – I thought it was my card – because I had been swiping it. Like a hundred times. But I am sure you saw me because we have been standing here for ten minutes which is a unusually long time for one customer in the express lane, no?”

And instead of answering she pulled out a Womans Day from the side of her register and opened it flat out on the scanner. Opened the magazine and started to read.  Just reading a magazine while I held my wallet, waiting. I thought about taking off or packing up my stuff and going over to the register next to us – they seemed to be moving well enough. But maybe I was flattered that she was comfortable enough with me to sneak in a break with me. Maybe I was impressed  that she was prepared with reading material (something I pride myself in, even though I left my book in the car that day).

After a few page turns she called the manager again. And a several more pages after that the manager showed up with the urgency of a crock pot meal. She punched in a few numbers. The magazine was returned to the side of the register and my debit card was approved.

I saved three dollars on that frozen pizza.

3) I was in the drugstore (the one I always stop at on my way home from work if I need Bud Light Lime or Raisinettes or Advil or Calamine Lotion) and there was a line out to West Virginia so I used my old trick – check out in “Cosmetics” where it doesn’t smell as much like an adult diaper as the rest of the place.

There were already two old ladies in line helping each other buy bottles of Eucerine and they were being hounded by a crazed sunburnt hippy girl wearing cutoffs and a blue floral spaghetti strap tanktop asking them to tap her watermelon. I didn’t even know this place had fruit so I was deeply confused, but still determined to ring up and get out without falling for any fruit scams. 

It was a miniature round watermelon and she kept tapping it and saying: “It’s on clearance, I hope its good. How do you know if it’s good?” As soon as I got in line she started in with me, “Do you think this is good?”  Shake shake tap tap.

“Watermelon on clearance at a drugstore is always good.” I told her. I could barely look in her direction, her skin looked like the dark end in a pack of those florescent Crayola crayons. I was getting radiated just standing next to her.

“I hope it’s good.” she said and then told us that she was “On the road.” Code for adult runaway. I know it well.

The other item she was buying was a can of cooling spray for sunburns. She told the woman ringing her up, “Oh I hope it’s the kind that sizzles down when you spray it on” and as soon as the clerk set it down Sunburnt Lady Kerouac open the bottle and sprayed it on her shoulders right there in the store. I saw smoke come up off her scalding skin and she sighed a bit of relief.  But not as big of a sigh of relief we all had when she recapped her purchase, bagged the watermelon, and left without further commentary.

Two to one that woman had a mangy dog waiting out side for that her. My only question was whether or not her dog would like watermelon.