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Devon Brackbi"
Check-out
I sat down my half gallon of milk and box As I stood there in the check-out line of
of Raisin Bran (yes, Raisin Bran) on the rugged
conveyor belt - half tipping over my carton of the supermarket, I was doing just what the line
milk because I'm such a clumsy, gawky, over- demanded - checking out. And to my own
grown-in-certain-areas and under-grown-in- pleasure, I exploited the ambiguity of the sign.
others fellow. I had always thought that by the The girl at the front of the line had that straight
time I reached 20 my body would have decided brown hair that is so amazingly and perfectly
to evenly proportion itself and that I'd simply straight that it makes you think she must have
be able to waltz up to the check-out line, flash a spent hours, like that girl in the Brady Bunch,
million-dollar smile at the cute check-out girl, taming her long, flowing hair with a comb. But
cause her to blush glowingly with desire at my hers wasn't artificially straight. No, it required,
tall and ruggedly handsome frame, and smile I could tell, absolutely no work on her part. It
(less charmingly, more patronizingly) at the was simply pulled back in a pony-tail with that
poor baggage boy and say, «No need for a bag, complete careless abandon towards looks chat
my boy. I'm just doing my part for the envi- marks some holy saint. She had no other intent
ronment," to the swooning delight of the cute than utility. Yet in her attempt at practicality, I
check-out girl (all in a suave Pierce-Brosnan-as-
found her incredibly attractive.
James-Bond style, of course). At the time, she seemed to be one of those
But at the very least, I had hoped that by
girls who exudes an air of complete calmness
this time in my life I would be able to set a jug and peace. But now that I think about it, she
of milk on a stupid supermarket conveyor belt wasn't the type of girl to «exude" anything. I
without knocking it into the celery and frozen mean, there wasn't slime oozing out of her skin
carrots of the white-haired, grandmother-like like a freaking slug or anything. But at the time,
lady standing in front of me and thus avoid the I thought that if I had found her in the forest,
embarrassment of having her glaringly place she would have been feeding birds from her
one of those plastic dividers between my gro- hand and streaming through the brush with a
stag. I can be so freaking romantic sometimes.
ceries and her frozen vegetables. More than anything else, she was one of those
With that one swift motion, she placed girls that you feel you can just talk with. I felt
that nothing would have been better than to
an impassible obstacle not only between my have a good chat with her for half an hour - or
cereal and her celery, my dairy and her dinner,
but she also forever divided her mind from my half a lifetime.
own, her soul from my self. It's strange how But then the cashier handed her her
two peo~le can stand so dose and yet be so far
away.Wtth that decisive act of division she for- change, and, picking up her bags, she passed
ever checked out of my life. through the jerky, mechanical doors of the su-
permarket and checked out of my life forever.
