TOTAL

     I bit my lip and chanced another glance in the woman's direction. She was no doubt in her mid-to-late forties, and was wearing brown loafers, black slacks, and a lime green sweater set. She had short, brown "mom" hair, and a teenage boy (her son, I assumed) was standing behind her. The reason I kept looking at her was because she had spent five whole minutes in the register lane, looking the impulse buys up and down, giving them far more attention than they merited. I hate it when customers do this, it makes it impossible to accomplish anything except for standing at the counter and waiting for the loiterer to choose which kind of M&Ms (on sale for $0.49) she wanted to tear a part like a wolverine as soon as she was away from the prying eyes of other humans. I knew that as soon as I tore a carton of Marlboro Reds open and began to stock, all of her prospective purchases would be placed on the counter and she would be giving me a look that said "Well, I don't have all day!" I sighed, knowing that any attempt to do anything useful in this awkward time would be fruitless. Better to just wait this one out.

     Bum bum bum bum. Bum bum bum bum. Bum bum bum bum.

     I was drumming my fingers and staring idly at a new tooth brush display on the end of aisle three when she slammed her Tide detergent (waaaay overpriced at $6.99) onto the counter, and gave me this look that said "I caught you."I blinked rapidly as she tossed her other items on the counter, from candy to Olay cosmetics to Folgers Coffee ($16.99).

     Then one of those inexplicably awkward moments occurred when two people say something at the same time and only one statement is heard. "Hi there, how are you? Did you find everything all right?" and "Oh my God Jean you look so tan!" fought  each other for attention from the same party. The vibrations from my voice box  and the vocal chords of the redheaded forty something standing behind (apparently) Geena reverberated against oxygen and nitrogen molecules in the air. I could have sworn I felt my feeble salutations bounce back against my cheek, as if accepting defeat. Geena swung around in time to squeal with delight at the appearance of her friend, and once more ignored the front counter, and me. It doesn't really matter, I guess, I just don't know whether she wants to wait for me to scan or whether she cares--

     "She's fine, or at least it seems that way. Maybe a little overexcited. I guess I'll do the talking since she is busy." Her son smiled as he stepped ahead of her to get the whole process started, and with a twinge of embarrassment I realized that he had witnessed my being completely ignored by his mom; my face felt a little hot at the idea that he had seen me looking so foolish. He was wearing khaki cargo shorts with a tan tee shirt, which seemed like some extreme matching. His eyes, which were also brown, might have been a little far a part, but the whole effect was not altogether unpleasant; my overworking mind immediately pegged him as one of those guys who is modest enough that he values his intelligence and humor much more than his appearance.

     "Oh no worries, it happens all the time, I practically talk to myself my entire shift anyway," I laughed, sliding the detergent in front of the scanner with a BLIP!

    He grinned. "I doubt you're missing much," he said as he lifted a twenty four pack of Ice Mountain water bottles (on sale for $3.99) into my scanning range.

     "Probably right," I replied and with another BLIP! I scanned the UPC. "Oh and, before I forget, would you like to try any Reese's candy tonight, three for $2.00?" I posed this in a falsely bright, very sarcastic tone of voice, and he answered in the same way.

     "You know I would love to, but I really shouldn't tempt myself!" He patted his stomach as if he was watching his weight. I can't help but laugh at this image, it reminds me of another customer, from the day before. She answered the same way to this question and literally grabbed her stomach and proceeded to clutch it for over a minute, losing herself in it. It was one of those moments when keeping the laughter inside is next to impossible. As I slide several more items past the scanner, (BLIP! BLIP! BLIP!) I glance at his mom, who is still blathering away to the redheaded woman, completely unaware of this conversation. This doesn't bother me.

    "Everyone says that! And I swear every time they laugh at their little joke like they are so original, but--"

     "All people are pretty much the same."

     He looks at me, and I look at him. I've finished scanning and bagging, now all that is left is to hit TOTAL and this pleasant respite will be over. I don't really want to say goodbye.

    "Well, most of them," I say with a small smile, and his mother turns around to look at us. TOTAL.