When the Temperature Drops

“If that’s all you want, then sure. That’s it. It’s yours. Go for it.” he said, head dropping slightly, silently to the left. His hair dangled over his eyes as if he were one of those water dogs whose eyes you can never really quite see.

“How much is it then?” She looked surprised.

“Well, I can always tell you that. But that’s not really what’s at issue here. I’m talking about possibility here. You can have anything – anything – yet this is all you want. Seems odd to me.” He flopped down onto his hand, elbow stoutly propped on the counter.

She paused a moment, looking at him from a slant. “Yeah, man. That’s pretty much all I want. Can you please tell me how much you require from me… in payment, I mean.”

“Yes, of course. But, you see, I’m trying to tell you something here. I’m trying to impress on you an idea. I’m trying to break through to you here, you see. You can allow yourself to want more than this. You’re not limited to this. You can have it all. You can grab hold of every thread that possibility has to offer – every moment, time, opportunity, event or thing, even wealth -you can grab hold of them and pull till they all come tumbling down. They can all wash over you as if you were a unicorn standing under a waterfall. Do you understand now? Do you get it? Get what I’m saying?” His face was still supported by his hand which was supported by his arm, which was supported by the counter. His eyes still nowhere to be found.

She took a deep breath, realizing that this was turning into a situation that she was being forced to deal with. She really hated having to deal with anything, even when she did so of her own volition – but particularly hated being forced to do so. The vein on her forehead began pulsing visibly as she struggled to keep her frustration in check.. She had rage issues and didn’t want this to turn ugly.

“Look,” she said tersely and slowly through a clenched jaw, “I am here to buy a carton of eggs, 2 stalks of broccoli, a loaf of bread and an eggplant. This is all I came for, all I need and all I want. Okay? So please, tell me what I owe you for these items, let me give that amount to you and then let me be on my way. Agreed?”

“Shit – did you realise that you’re buying all ‘B’ and ‘E’ things?! This happens very rarely, but when it does it is really quite memorable. You came to this grocery store to ‘B’ ‘E’ – to BE! to be and keep on being! Broccoli, Eggs, Bread and Eggplant! Wow! My God. Be! Be! Be!” His zany eyes finally glinted through the curtain of hair.

“Stop it NOW. If you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to either speak to your manager or walk out of her with all these ‘be’-ings for free. Do you understand me? Stop it. Let me pay. Let me leave. It’s as simple as that. Do you realize that there is a line-up of people forming behind me. They all want to pay for their things and get out of here. Just like I do.” Indeed, behind her, a long queue of people had formed, and they were all watching the conversation unfold in either bemused indifference or apprehensive impatience.

He looked up from behind his frivolous fringe at the waiting customers.

“Oh!” he ejaculated, “My God. Yes of course, I’m very sorry. I have this heart condition that makes me become esoteric whenever the temperature drops. It’s hereditary, you see. It was a congenital…”

“Shut up. ring me through.”

“… it was a congenital condition that is actually quite rare, if you can believe it…” he continued obliviously.

She had had enough. She picked up the ‘B’ and ‘E’ things that she had attempted to purchase, put them aggressively in a bag, and walked out of the door as the cashier continued to mumble something about how his family became quite the interesting dinner guests whenever winter came around.

The next customer walked up to the cash cautiously and placed his things on the sticky, black conveyor belt. He looked up at the cashier anxiously. The cashier stopped abruptly, looking at the new customer as if through fresh eyes.  “Oh, hello.” he said pleasantly.

The customer nodded acknowledgement at the greeting.

“Will that be all?” asked the cashier.

“Yes.” replied the customer firmly.

The cashier peered at the customer through his gratuitously cumbersome bangs, and after an awkward moment, said, “Sure. If that’s all you want, of course there’s no problem. It’s yours. Go for it. But I happen to believe that you are more than the sum of these things.” The cashier’s head dangled to the left once more.

The customer groaned loudly, as did everyone else who was caught in this grocer’s queue, like flies in a spider’s web or butter on toast. The people in the lineup clutched their unpurchased goods so tightly in their hands that almost all at once, their knuckles whitened.