My eyes glued to the floor, I shuffled my way through the crowded aisles of Trader Joe's, desperately searching for cilantro. I had all but gotten down on my knees and begged for my dad to go in my place, however, I would have no such luck.
To my dismay, the final ingredient for my guacamole was perfectly evading me. The only solution I could conjure was to go in circles around all of the aisles, hoping no one would stop to look or notice my presence.
During my third go-around (or fourth-honestly I had lost count at this point) I noticed that there was a guy who had somehow managed to remain in the same spot each time I had completed a lap. Staring intently at a list held in one hand, he reached the other into a bag of chips placed atop his cart. Before I could surpass him once more, I noticed him reach his arm up and, from the top shelf, the one much too far out of my view to have been noticed before, pull down a bag of cilantro. …show more content…
With my shopping list finally completed, I rushed to the checkout, the bane of my existence, and once more returned my gaze to the comfort of the tile floor. Without meaning to, I could overhear the banter ensuing between the check-out lady and, wouldn't you know, the man with the chips. The conversation alone was enough to rush blood to my face (By this point, I would go so far as to say I was far more red than her hat). Even so, I couldn't stop myself from listening
To my dismay, the final ingredient for my guacamole was perfectly evading me. The only solution I could conjure was to go in circles around all of the aisles, hoping no one would stop to look or notice my presence.
During my third go-around (or fourth-honestly I had lost count at this point) I noticed that there was a guy who had somehow managed to remain in the same spot each time I had completed a lap. Staring intently at a list held in one hand, he reached the other into a bag of chips placed atop his cart. Before I could surpass him once more, I noticed him reach his arm up and, from the top shelf, the one much too far out of my view to have been noticed before, pull down a bag of cilantro. …show more content…
With my shopping list finally completed, I rushed to the checkout, the bane of my existence, and once more returned my gaze to the comfort of the tile floor. Without meaning to, I could overhear the banter ensuing between the check-out lady and, wouldn't you know, the man with the chips. The conversation alone was enough to rush blood to my face (By this point, I would go so far as to say I was far more red than her hat). Even so, I couldn't stop myself from listening