This past year, I was blessed to come back to a suburban town in New Jersey, where I had lived before, and was very happy when I found a rental only a fifteen minute walk from the local ice cream shop where they made their own; the best ice cream I ever had and would only eat - while in New Jersey at least. My go to: medium cup, two scoops, chocolate thunder and mint chocolate chip with a blanket, thin I would plead, of marshmallow. Yuuummmmmm!
I would request a plastic top on my container to ensure the safe transport of my sweet indulgence home and then enjoy every spoonful, nestled on the couch, watching a movie or favorite show. Now as far as sweets are concerned, I definitely have to pace myself, and so about once a month or so, after the end of a work week, on a Friday or sometimes Saturday evening, I awarded myself this wonderful treat.
In early March, I happened to stop for my usual at the Ice Cream shop. It was early afternoon on a workday, on my way home from an appointment and it had been awhile since my last fix; the store had been closed for their winter break. I was so looking forward to this creamy, sweet, chocolate indulgence, my very first of the year. Entering the store, there was a mother with her young daughter who were just paying for their order. As they left the store, an elderly woman, patiently waiting her turn, moved up to the counter and with a bright smile, gave her order. I patiently waited to be next. While the attendant was scooping out her sweet indulgence, the woman turned towards me with her big eager smile and said, “No matter what, there’s always ice cream.” I laughed and replied, “Yes there is……”. At that, the attendant called her attention to the register where she paid and then exited the store. About three weeks later, there would be no more ice cream or anything else, out in public, for that matter. We were in lock down.
Fast forward six months. I flew out to California to see my co-creator and conspirator, Ingrid and family, mask bound and alcohol wipe saturated, taking every precaution along my way. Tip for the airplane; wear a coat, they keep the air at full blast because of the filters in play, for everyone’s benefit, but it’s freezing.
I arrived Friday afternoon, had a wonderful dinner and we mapped out the itinerary for Saturday; Best Buy for Ingrid and her techno gadgets, Victoria for whatever came up and me to the grocery store to stock up on some “must haves” for the next week so I could continue my healthy eating regime or at least make somewhat of an attempt. There was a heat wave and it was going to be 115 degrees, someone mentioned ice cream…….
Two Best Buys and one Elm West (for Victoria) later, we decided groceries first and then sit in the car, in the air conditioning, eating our ice cream - outside, 10 seconds, full melt down and there would be no ice cream, just dripping sugary cream and sticky fingers. Good plan.
We pulled into a very small Whole Foods that looked all boarded up as we approached, but after convincing Ingrid to pull in to the back parking lot, saw it was actually open. Adorning our masks and grabbing a cart, we were off.
I was able to get most of the food on my list, had to be open to try new things or do without but for the most part, a successful coup, and I took my place on the circle on the floor at the front of the aisle marked “Wait Here Safe Distance - 6 feet apart”, facing the only register open. There was a woman at the register that was in the process of paying and leaving, so I waited. From the left, a young woman came up to the end of the register belt, dropped her pizza box and large water bottle, waiting for the customer in progress to be done. “Excuse me”, I called out politely, “There is a line here for the register”.
Well, before she even turned her head to glare at me, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. Her eyes found mine with such a nasty stare and she held it there, not saying one word. Her laser beams were definitely malfunctioning that day so I walked a few steps towards her and said very nicely, “The line is back there,” gesturing behind me. Again, with her eyes firing blanks and now adding hand gestures, she snapped at me, “Well, go ahead”, as she grabbed at her food to move it back, not acknowledging anyone else in the aisle in line. I pulled my cart up to the register and asked her politely if she could step back to a safe distance because we were now only about 1.5 feet apart, with the front of the cart between us - very short register belts…..
Then I saw her let go of her food so it traveled down the belt into mine as she shouted out, “I don’t know anything about any rules” and my entire being just came to an abrupt halt like the caustic scratch of the needle arm dragged across the (vinyl) record you were just listening to; she was wearing a face mask and stood at the end of the register until the prior customer was done. Seriously? But before I could even process that response, she leaned into me with extremely viscous eyes and said to me, “Why do you have to be such a Bitch?”
Oh no you didn’t………….
Warning: For those of you expecting me to take the high road, do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars……. Turn back now.
In less than a nanosecond I went from a calm, happy, empathetic and polite individual to the Hulk, my right arm on auto pilot, reaching out to grab her by the throat. I surprisingly caught myself mid air and pulled my arm back down to my side. Not because I wanted to. During this whole encounter, I lost sight of Ingrid and Victoria, but noticed that the cashier had her eyes down, neutral expression and remained very still behind her plexiglass shield. I could feel anger coming from her without actually seeing it and a quick look in between my altercation validated those feelings. “I’m very sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or cause any problems”, I said to her quickly and then reverted my attention back to the matter at hand. “No”, I said back to my very rude adversary, “I’m not a Bitch, you’re the Bitch!”
I guess it was divine intervention that there was a shopping cart between us and Ingrid had come up behind the girl with the most confused look on her face, not understanding what was going on and holding her arms outstretched for an explanation. I shook my head slightly to indicate to her, “Not now…..” The girl had picked up her food and as she walked away I just couldn’t help myself. Opening my mouth, the following words escaped me, “I’m from New York and if you want to, I have no qualms about taking you out”.
Oh no I didn’t.
Not my finest moment……….
She was gone and I was able to turn my full attention back to getting my groceries on the belt, paying and getting out of there. I apologized to the cashier again with no response and left it alone; we all remained silent. As I finished paying, the cashier leaned forward and, to my surprise, apologized to me. I told her she had absolutely nothing to apologize to me for and she said to me, “You were right and she was so wrong and I am sorry.” I again assured her there was no need for her apology, I was sorry if I caused her any anguish, thanked her and wished her well. We took our leave.
Twenty minutes later we were sitting in the car, air conditioner blasting, eating our ice cream with sugary sweet toppings and I thought to myself, “No matter what, there is always ice cream…….”
So, Whaddya want?
