Chapter 11:
Things That Come With Age? A Coffin... Unless You're A Vampire, Then You Have One By Default
The Girl From The Grocery Store Across The Street Is (NOT!) A Robot, She's Just Incredibly, Incredibly, Incredibly WEIRD!
The old man squinted so exaggeratedly that his eyes became two horizontal lines. And even then I had the impression he couldn’t read anything at all.
Things that come along with age, I suppose. Old people have that habit.
“How much…?” The old man not only brought his face right up to the milk pack like a human magnifying glass, but he also seemed incapable of speaking and reading the brand name at the same time—which, by the way, was written three times on the pack.
“Sir… uhm… I need to close the refrigerator door…”
“How much…?” he repeated.
“How much does it cost? Is that what you’re asking?” I wiggled the door back and forth a little—maybe the old man could catch the not-so-subtle hint that he needed to move out of the way.
“How much until it expires?” he asked. Clearly my hint flew right past him. Honestly, it would’ve been faster to shove him inside the fridge than deal with him.
“Are you taking it or—” I cut Kiri off mid-sentence with a hand gesture.
“Two weeks, sir… that’s why they’re on discount…” I continued, forcing a fake smile to hide that my patience was hanging by a thread so thin it was practically invisible.
“And how much…” He finally moved aside, nearly crushing my foot with that cane that continued proving completely useless. “…does it cost?”
“40.32,” Kiri said in her normal position—and by that I mean watching videos on her phone.
“M-my boss got the price mixed up with the batch number,” I said a little louder, in case the old man had heard her. I patted his shoulder and placed two more milk packs in his hands. “40 is the promotional price for three packs.”
I didn’t give him time to answer, much less process what I’d said—that would probably have taken hours. I closed the refrigerator door and gently guided the old man to the counter by the shoulder. Put gently in quotes, let’s just say he didn’t need his cane to get there.
“I didn’t get confused,” Kiri said.
“Just hand me a bag, will you?” I stretched out my hand, opening and closing it. I needed to finish the sale fast.
“Okay…” She placed the bag in my hand—nothing out of the ordinary, though surprising considering she never once looked up from her phone. “…But I didn’t get confused.”
“Who got confused?” the old man asked, clearly not just out of the conversation but almost out of reality itself while pulling a wad of bills from his pocket.
“Nobody… nobody got confused, sir.” Except maybe, perhaps, almost surely but definitely not Shirley: You old man.
“I didn’t get confused, Tanaka changed the—” She lifted her face before I cut her off again.
Too close to talk over her.
Too close to closing the sale to let her speak.
I think, therefore I am—if I remember the phrase correctly.
In this case I acted, then thought, then dug a hole in that thought and built a whole network of tunnels inside it.
The only way to shut her up was to cover her mouth with my hand. We can classify the act as 'Descartes denial.'
I acted first by covering her mouth, then thought.
Thought about how I could feel her lips touching my palm.
The heat coming off them.
Thought that if the lipstick she was wearing wasn’t the kind that doesn’t come off with anything, there was probably a mark of her lips on my palm.
Thought that I shouldn’t be thinking about any of this, but it was still way better than watching Kiri freeze in place, not even trying to remove my hand from her mouth, while the old man… was stacking one-bill notes on the counter.
“D-do you need help counting?” I asked, pulling my hand away from Kiri’s face and separating the bills the old man had piled up.
Of course it’s stupid, but I tried to use the hand that had touched Kiri as little as possible.
Nothing weird, nothing weird… I just wanted to see if there was a mark.
“I can…” the old man said, separating them one by one with exasperating slowness. Sir, you’re living overtime—I wouldn’t take everything so calmly—but obviously I couldn’t say that.
“Yeah, yeah, but we have to… uhm… help our elders…” It didn’t take me more than a couple seconds to separate all the bills. Forty one-bill notes. What is it with old people and low-denomination bills?
Luckily for my brain—and for the old man—he didn’t take long to leave.
I mean, it felt like forever—in the time it took him to exit the store I could’ve gone back and forth to my apartment four times—but at least he didn’t try to talk about the weather or tell some irrelevant story connecting the milk packs to a memory from his youth.
“Haaa… finally… felt like I was in a horror movie…” I said, finally relieved, wiping imaginary sweat from my face. “Okay… first sale of the— Kiri?”
“Huh?” She seemed disconnected, running her finger across her lips until she heard my voice. “Ah… yeah… first sale.”
“Uhm… you have…” I tried to speak.
“Tanaka, you…” She spoke at the same time.
“The lipstick smeared.” I said.
Things that come along with age, I suppose. Old people have that habit.
“How much…?” The old man not only brought his face right up to the milk pack like a human magnifying glass, but he also seemed incapable of speaking and reading the brand name at the same time—which, by the way, was written three times on the pack.
“Sir… uhm… I need to close the refrigerator door…”
“How much…?” he repeated.
“How much does it cost? Is that what you’re asking?” I wiggled the door back and forth a little—maybe the old man could catch the not-so-subtle hint that he needed to move out of the way.
“How much until it expires?” he asked. Clearly my hint flew right past him. Honestly, it would’ve been faster to shove him inside the fridge than deal with him.
“Are you taking it or—” I cut Kiri off mid-sentence with a hand gesture.
“Two weeks, sir… that’s why they’re on discount…” I continued, forcing a fake smile to hide that my patience was hanging by a thread so thin it was practically invisible.
“And how much…” He finally moved aside, nearly crushing my foot with that cane that continued proving completely useless. “…does it cost?”
“40.32,” Kiri said in her normal position—and by that I mean watching videos on her phone.
“M-my boss got the price mixed up with the batch number,” I said a little louder, in case the old man had heard her. I patted his shoulder and placed two more milk packs in his hands. “40 is the promotional price for three packs.”
I didn’t give him time to answer, much less process what I’d said—that would probably have taken hours. I closed the refrigerator door and gently guided the old man to the counter by the shoulder. Put gently in quotes, let’s just say he didn’t need his cane to get there.
“I didn’t get confused,” Kiri said.
“Just hand me a bag, will you?” I stretched out my hand, opening and closing it. I needed to finish the sale fast.
“Okay…” She placed the bag in my hand—nothing out of the ordinary, though surprising considering she never once looked up from her phone. “…But I didn’t get confused.”
“Who got confused?” the old man asked, clearly not just out of the conversation but almost out of reality itself while pulling a wad of bills from his pocket.
“Nobody… nobody got confused, sir.” Except maybe, perhaps, almost surely but definitely not Shirley: You old man.
“I didn’t get confused, Tanaka changed the—” She lifted her face before I cut her off again.
Too close to talk over her.
Too close to closing the sale to let her speak.
I think, therefore I am—if I remember the phrase correctly.
In this case I acted, then thought, then dug a hole in that thought and built a whole network of tunnels inside it.
The only way to shut her up was to cover her mouth with my hand. We can classify the act as 'Descartes denial.'
I acted first by covering her mouth, then thought.
Thought about how I could feel her lips touching my palm.
The heat coming off them.
Thought that if the lipstick she was wearing wasn’t the kind that doesn’t come off with anything, there was probably a mark of her lips on my palm.
Thought that I shouldn’t be thinking about any of this, but it was still way better than watching Kiri freeze in place, not even trying to remove my hand from her mouth, while the old man… was stacking one-bill notes on the counter.
“D-do you need help counting?” I asked, pulling my hand away from Kiri’s face and separating the bills the old man had piled up.
Of course it’s stupid, but I tried to use the hand that had touched Kiri as little as possible.
Nothing weird, nothing weird… I just wanted to see if there was a mark.
“I can…” the old man said, separating them one by one with exasperating slowness. Sir, you’re living overtime—I wouldn’t take everything so calmly—but obviously I couldn’t say that.
“Yeah, yeah, but we have to… uhm… help our elders…” It didn’t take me more than a couple seconds to separate all the bills. Forty one-bill notes. What is it with old people and low-denomination bills?
Luckily for my brain—and for the old man—he didn’t take long to leave.
I mean, it felt like forever—in the time it took him to exit the store I could’ve gone back and forth to my apartment four times—but at least he didn’t try to talk about the weather or tell some irrelevant story connecting the milk packs to a memory from his youth.
“Haaa… finally… felt like I was in a horror movie…” I said, finally relieved, wiping imaginary sweat from my face. “Okay… first sale of the— Kiri?”
“Huh?” She seemed disconnected, running her finger across her lips until she heard my voice. “Ah… yeah… first sale.”
“Uhm… you have…” I tried to speak.
“Tanaka, you…” She spoke at the same time.
“The lipstick smeared.” I said.
“Have lipstick near your cheek.” She continued simultaneously. “I need to go to the bathroom.” She stood up without even putting the bills in the register. “Cover for me a second.”
“Sure…” I muttered, watching her walk into the bathroom and—of course—lock the door behind her.
I brushed my cheek with my thumb and yes, her lipstick was on my face—probably transferred when I rubbed it earlier.
Now, inside my head, I not only had the knowledge that Kiri wore non-waterproof lipstick (though that’s not important, or rather it is important. Important because, well…)
[Tanaka… (,,>﹏<,,)]
[Uh… are you okay?]
[… … … We did it in front of a customer]
[Did what, Kiri?]
[(ㆆ_ㆆ) We… we kissed in front of the customer…]
[IN WHAT UNIVERSE DOES THAT COUNT AS A KISS?]
[The lipstick was on my lips, transferred to your hand, from your hand to your cheek and reached the corner of your lips. I SAW IT.]
[That doesn’t count, Kiri…]
[Fourth… base… (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)]
I was going to reply but… did it even make sense? I mean… would it help at all?
In zoos they have those giant signs with black letters: 'Do not feed the tigers.'
I think I should put one in the store that says 'Do not attempt to explain Kiri how reality works.'
“Sure…” I muttered, watching her walk into the bathroom and—of course—lock the door behind her.
I brushed my cheek with my thumb and yes, her lipstick was on my face—probably transferred when I rubbed it earlier.
Now, inside my head, I not only had the knowledge that Kiri wore non-waterproof lipstick (though that’s not important, or rather it is important. Important because, well…)
[Tanaka… (,,>﹏<,,)]
[Uh… are you okay?]
[… … … We did it in front of a customer]
[Did what, Kiri?]
[(ㆆ_ㆆ) We… we kissed in front of the customer…]
[IN WHAT UNIVERSE DOES THAT COUNT AS A KISS?]
[The lipstick was on my lips, transferred to your hand, from your hand to your cheek and reached the corner of your lips. I SAW IT.]
[That doesn’t count, Kiri…]
[Fourth… base… (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)]
I was going to reply but… did it even make sense? I mean… would it help at all?
In zoos they have those giant signs with black letters: 'Do not feed the tigers.'
I think I should put one in the store that says 'Do not attempt to explain Kiri how reality works.'
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