The Love Sucks Club(79)

At the store, we park way in the back of the lot because Roxanne isn’t willing to risk getting rammed by some crazy who’s trying to squeeze into the closest parking place. There are cars and people everywhere and the people leaving the stores are coming up with loaded carts full of food and bottles of water.

Looking at them, Roxanne turns to me. “Do you have enough water to share?”

“I have enough water for twenty people for three weeks,” I answer. “Don’t worry.”

Since there are no carts left, I grab a basket. Trying to maneuver down the aisle is like playing a big and impatient game of Frogger. One woman runs over my toe with her cart and doesn’t bother to apologize. “Excuse me,” I say, loudly.

She turns to glare at me over her shoulder before moving on.

Roxanne pokes my arm. “Just keep your cool, Dana.”

“I am cool.”

Reaching for a bag of flour, I feel an elbow in my back that knocks me into the display. A hand reaches past me to grab the flour from my hand. Tucking it against my body, I turn around with my other hand curled into a fist. A woman who looks to be about ninety is standing behind me. Realizing the she can’t get the flour I’ve already picked up, she pushes me aside to grab another. Before I can say a word, she’s off, darting around an oncoming cart. Roxanne looks after her, appalled.

“Really?” I’m dumbfounded. “Did I just get body slammed by a ninety-year-old?”

Laughing, Rox takes the flour from me and puts it into the basket. “I didn’t realize there would be such a demand for flour.”

Jumping aside to make way for a guy who is running through the aisle with four gallon jugs of water, I knock back into the flour display again. This is ridiculous. I raise my voice as high as I can. “The storm isn’t due to hit for another ten hours. Everyone calm the fuck down!” Silence descends on the aisle for a moment. A mother with a toddler in the cart gives me a dirty look before pushing her child away from me. Everyone else looks at me for a second before looking away. They go back to pushing each other and snapping at each other as if there hadn’t been an interruption. Roxanne puts her hand on my forearm. “Maybe you should go wait in the car.”

“No way. You need someone to protect you.”

We make it to the end of the aisle. Continuing to dodge and dive to avoid the angry mob, we manage to finally make it through the store. Almost everything is decimated, but we are able to gather the ingredients we need for chocolate chip, peanut butter, and oatmeal raisin cookies. Roxanne has promised to bake them all before the storm hits so that we have them when the power goes out. Standing in the long line, I lament out loud about the lack of cashiers. “Maybe they were given the time off to prepare their own homes,” Roxanne says.

“Doubt it. The store just wants us to wait in this long, horrible line.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” she replies.

“Excuse me.” The lady behind me pokes me in the back. Turning around, I see the old lady who knocked me into the flour. “Can I go in front of you? I have to get back to make sure my cats are okay.”

She has an entire loaded grocery cart, piled so high it’s overflowing the sides. “Are you kidding me? I only have a basket full of stuff.”

“Really, Dana?” Roxanne gapes at me. “We can’t just let her go first?”

I’m almost to the front of the line by now and I’m not in a great mood. There is no way I’m letting someone with an overstuffed cart in front of me, no matter how old she is. Ignoring both of them, I turn back to the front. Roxanne comes up close behind me.

Whispering, she says, “Are you really not going to let her go in front of us?”

“Why would I?”

“Because she’s really old.”

“I don’t care how old she is. She has a million items and she’s probably paying with pennies.”

Roxanne laughs. The line moves forward. Another cashier opens next to us and says, “I’ll take the next person in line.”

The old lady rushes toward to new cashier, but I’m quicker. Diving in front of her, I knock the front of her cart into the candy display, spilling Peppermint Patties and Reese’s all over the place. She tries to block my path with the front of her cart and manages to smash the front of it into my hip, but by then, I’m already into the line. Skidding across the spilled candy, I practically fall onto the belt, slamming my basket down in front of the cashier. She pulls back, looking at me like I’m the crazy one. I dump my groceries out of the basket and turn around to look for Roxanne. She’s still standing behind the old lady, looking flabbergasted. “Come on,” I call to her.