Bell Pepper

I am standing in the first aisle of the grocery store. I stare at the wide range of vegetables that I could buy. Normally I would buy a bag of carrots and make something simple for dinner. This time I don’t feel like making the same kind of dinner like I have for the past two days, so my eyes graze the zucchini and the bell peppers. I stand for a moment longer, feeling lazy to move. Eventually I go closer to the box with the bell papers and grab a red one. I decide to take a yellow one as well. I proceed to put them in my cart but after a second thought I choose to take a small bag and store them in there instead. I place my cart on the ground of the store to have both hands free and I take a thin, transparent plastic bag. I try to open the slippery plastic bag, but the opening is as if glued together and my soft, dry hands can’t separate the bag’s sides from each other. Instinctively, I attempt to solve the problem by breathing on the bag. The moist air usually does the job of making the sides separable. This time, however, it fails. My breath, instead of hitting the plastic bag in my hands, fills up the surgical mask I am wearing, and my nostrils get filled by the unpleasant smell from my mouth. It is now damp inside my mask and I pause for a second, realizing my stupid action. I sigh. Well, this is uncomfortable. Devoid of my usual opportunity, I try to rub the bag against my shirt and get it to open. My movements get progressively more frantic, and I start to feel impatient. It doesn’t work and I exasperated let my arm fall. I take a second to close my eyes, take a breath and calm down. The bad breath in my surgical mask is still very much present. I throw the bag in the cart and just let the bell papers be in the cart without being in a bag. I add the zucchini to the cart as well and, with my mood successfully being lowered, I go on with my shopping. The rest of my shopping continues relatively problemfree, and I manage to make it to the checkout without fully giving up on life. My mood has shifted a bit in the meantime, and I am looking forward to the food I am going to prepare, when I get home.

I stand in line. It is a long line and I quickly sink deep into my own thoughts, not sensing the world around me. Without thinking my right hand hits my mask. I want to scratch my nose. Is it working? No. My nails can’t scratch enough to get relief. I try, again, rubbing my index finger and middle finger of my right hand on my nose bridge to relieve the itchy feeling, but to no avail. My nose is still itchy. If anything, it has made it itchier. Desperately, I move my head back and forth and from side to side, trying to let my mask scratch the place for me. I keep doing it for a couple of seconds, not realizing how stupid it looks, until I accidentally get eye contact with another person in the store. The person is staring at me, eyes wide open. She is holding a pack of coffee. Her movement of taking it from the shelf and putting it in her cart has stopped mid motion, and she is now looking at me. I immediately stop my movements and I feel my cheeks turn red. Well, that's embarrassing.

I awkwardly smile at the woman as to signal that I am not crazy. She doesn't seem to notice though, still has a tensed, rigid position. She looks away and finally finishes the action of putting the pack of coffee in her cart. I look away. My head falls, so my chin hits my chest. I don’t understand. I was being friendly. She could have at least smiled back or something. I ponder and sulk for some time, but then it occurs to me. Of course. She couldn’t see me smile, because of my mask. I swear, this thing is both a blessing and a curse. The woman is now standing behind me. I turn around to look at her and she looks right back at me, an expressionless face meeting mine. We stare at each other a second too long, and I feel something shift, down my spine. My heart skips a beat.

She's pretty.

I smile at her, concentrating on my eyes, them being the only indication of my smile’s presence. Immediately I feel stupid, but to my relief, her eyes squint and I see her mask moving in a way that indicates a smile has appeared underneath. I feel happy suddenly. I turn around again and I notice the itching of my nose has lessened. It's my turn at the cash register. The man behind the register smiles at me and I smile back, again, remembering to use my eyes. I pay for the groceries with my credit card. I take my bell peppers and am about to go when a fleeting thought goes through my mind. I ask the man behind the cash register for a plastic bag. He says yes, but in vain.

“There unfortunately are no more bags”, he tells me.

“Oh, no, that´s all right”, I tell him.

“I can ask for someone to bring more”, he says.

Then I hear a voice from behind me.

“Here you go”.

It's the woman with the pack of coffee. She is standing in front of me now, her arm stretched out, handing me a small plastic bag.

“You can just take this”, she tells me.

She smiles.

“Thanks”, I tell her, smiling back, taking the bag.

I look down quickly, not feeling brave enough to keep looking at her. I put my bell papers in the plastic bag, collect the rest of my groceries and leave the store.

As I arrive at my house, I put all the groceries at place. I almost throw out the bag the woman gave me, but I notice a small piece of paper at the bottom of it. I almost didn't see it. I pick it up and open it. I read what it says and a broad smile creeps on my face. I read it over a couple more times, not quite believing my eyes.

Well.

Never has grocery shopping been this great.