THE CHECKOUT GIRL - Part 1

I’ve had this thing for Angie for about two years now. She works at the grocery store where I shop, usually as a cashier. The day we met, she was stocking the deodorant shelf. She said my little boy was cute and told me she was married with two little girls, and we talked for a little while. Ever since then, I’ve gone through her line from time to time and exchanged meaningless chatter. I would really like to become friends with her and keep wishing I had the courage to suggest we meet for coffee, but I’m pretty shy and have never gone beyond, “So how are the little ones doing?”

Angie is very quiet and seems a little sad every time I see her. I have imagined that she married her high school sweetheart, had two babies in quick succession, and now fights depression as she works and takes care of her family, watching any dreams of college or career or travel wither away. I myself am a single mother, and I work full-time and attend college part-time. Even though I love my family and am able to work to advance my situation, I still feel very tired sometimes and wish I could get away from all the responsibilities and pressures.

It had been probably seven years since I’d been on any kind of real vacation, apart from very short visits with relatives that were more stress than fun. A restlessness and itching to get in the car and keep driving had hit me from time to time for the last couple of years, but recently it kept building till it was almost unbearable. I asked several friends if they’d be interested in a two or three day road trip; each said they’d love to, but were too busy with work and family. Everyone is “too busy” for anything these days but work, it seems. I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I had spent more than an hour laughing and talking with friends and just feeling good.

I was really getting low, and was feeling particularly bad one day when I went to get some groceries before picking my son up from preschool. As I wheeled my basket towards the checkout counters, I saw that Angie was there. I smiled a little and headed toward her line, as I usually do when I see her there, even though other lines were shorter. As I waited, I watched her work. She seemed only to be as engaged as she had to be to do her job; her eyes were distant, and I wondered what she was thinking about. I leaned on my basket and moodily considered that I must look the same these days, always fantasizing about getting a little “me” time and having fun with friends.

Finally it was my turn, and I began unloading my groceries. A carryout clerk walked up and took over, so I moved up to the register and began pulling out my checkbook. Angie looked up and smiled a little, and said, “So where’s the little guy today?” “Preschool. I’m picking him up when I leave here.” She nodded with her quiet, demure little smile, and began scanning my groceries.

I struggled with myself for a minute. This was where all our previous conversations had ended, and I really wanted to talk to her more. I was just afraid of her thinking I was strange for wanting to befriend her if she wasn’t interested. Oh, to hell with it, I thought. I guess if she ends up thinking I’m weird, I can just quit going through her line. I laughed out loud a little at that thought, and she looked up, a bemused half-smile on her face.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m just laughing at myself,” I said. “I’ve had this obsession with getting out of town for a while, to get away from everything, but all my friends are too busy for a road trip. I just had this crazy thought about taking off on my own. Sounds desperate, huh?”

“Oh, man, I know what you mean – I haven’t had a real vacation in forever. I feel like I’m going crazy, just the same old thing every day,” she said.

“Well, heck,” I said, laughing, “we ought to go, you and me.” I was joking – I seriously did not think this girl would consider going on a trip with a stranger, even one she had seen in her store for years. Heck, I didn’t think I would do anything like that myself.

She finished scanning the last item, dropped it in the bag, and stopped to look at me intently. She said, “Get me out of this city for one weekend and I’ll pay for the gas myself.”

I laughed again, but it looked like she was actually serious. “Really?” I said.

“Totally,” she said. We looked at each other for a few moments, half-laughing, trying to gauge if the other was just joking or meant it. I’m sure she had the same thoughts as me – I don’t want her to know I’m serious if she thinks it’s a joke, because then she’ll think I’m weird, but I really want to go on this trip, so I don’t want to back off if she’s willing to go.

I looked down at my checkbook, taking a minute to think while I wrote out the check. After I gave it to her, I hesitated, then took out a deposit slip and tore off the routing number and account number at the bottom. I wrote my name and cell phone number on the back of the remaining part while she was occupied running my check through. When she paused for the receipt to print, I handed her the paper.

“Call me if you can get a weekend off – we’ll play Thelma and Louise, ‘kay?” We both laughed, and she said she would. I figured she would probably never call me, but I felt lighter and more optimistic walking out of the store.

TO BE CONTINUED – the fun is soon to start!