Crispy, crunchy, salty….what was missing? Mary pondered.
“Ma’am are you going to actually buy the bag of chips?
She raised her hand up to motion for silence, this young prick of a cashier didn’t realize she was making a life changing decision. If she chose the salt and vinegar chips her breath would stink for at least two days no matter how much baking soda she used. If she chose the jalapeno flavor her toilet would most definitely have to face the consequences. She had used all her duck tape trying to tape the toilet seat back on, it definitely couldn’t take another hit. Or maybe she would just buy both? Decisions..decisions…
Or maybe she would buy the frozen yogurt and cheesecake frosting? Yum! Maybe some spicy chicken to top it off?
"Ma’am! You’ve been standing in line for nearly ten minutes either buy something or move!"
Who did this prick think he was talking to? She watched as a bead of sweat dripped down his overtly fat face as it plopped down onto the once extra large shirt which had turned into a crop top, slightly cropping at the tip of his overly large stomach, the light hair patch on his chest had a yellow stain that Mary hoped was mustard.
“Hey!” Mary yelled.
The cashier sneered down at her from above his station covered with cigarettes and incense that smells like cheap mall perfume. The bag of chips tightly in the grip of his sweaty hands.
“You piece of crap! Give me back my items!"
“Sorry, no fatasses allowed, you snooze you lose”
Mary could hear the veins popping in her brain, the boiling sensation of anger about to overflow from her insides. She imagined the salt, the feeling of the round crispy beautiful chips going down her throat and down into her stomach. She needed food, carbs, sweets and she would do anything to get it.
Before she could even respond she was outside the convenience store, the cashier pressing his large heavy face to the glass door laughing. She could see the fog make an outline of the greaseball he was.
Finding her way back home she sat down on the floor of the kitchen, the cold light giving the peeling away linoleum a tint of grey. She watched as her old grandfather clock slowly ticked away to countdown the minutes passing. Mary looked around her apartment for something to keep her occupied.
30 Minutes Later . . . . . .
Looking down at the empty containers sprawled out on the kitchen floor, Mary didn’t even remember going through the containers. As she reached down to pick up the mess she felt something make a “squishing sound in her hand”. There was half an old piece of carrot cake melted into the creases of her fingers. Looking up at the clock it was 12 o’clock at night, how would she sleep without having her snacks. After thoroughly searching through the fridge hoping to find a secret compartment that would lead her to a world of sweets and treats at the end of the journey Mary came up empty.
Wait...her coworker Sheila had had a baby shower yesterday, maybe she had some left over sweets?
Stumbling through the pile of old containers and maybe an old eggroll from the chinese she had ordered over a month ago.
Note to self: Go through the fridge more often.
Flipping through her phone book as fast as her thick, crusted cream cheese hands could fathom she finally found Sheila’s phone number.
Tapping her foot to the rhythm of the clock she saw that it was near two in the morning.
Come on...Come on...Sheila pick up!
“Hi this is Sheila Winston, I can’t pick up the phone right now. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.
The automated voice saying: Leave a message after the beep.
“Hi Sheila this is Mary from...erh... work, I just wanted to say congrats on your pregnancy. I know I couldn’t make it to your baby shower. Well technically I wasn’t invited, I know my invite probably got lost in the mail somewhere. Anyways I know your baby shower was yesterday and I was wondering, I mean I was just thinking...did you maybe have any left over cake or cookies? Anything you have is fine of course, I was just wondering. If you do you can call me back at any time or hour. Okay? Great! Call me back at any time or hour, just wanted to say that again. Or don’t, that's fine. Also I was just..
The voicemail had ended the call.
Who else could she call? None of her coworkers had really talked to her unless forced since the company cookout when she had been caught in the lake house eating all the ribs she had stole from the grill.
Mhmm how that sauce was so sweet.
Mary licked her lips she could almost taste the tangy sweet sauce.
Dammit she couldn’t take this anymore, she needed her sweets.
~~~~~ Breaking News: Woman holds up convenience store, only stealing two bags of chips and apparently the frozen sweets fridge. The clerk was severely injured and “you snooze you lose" was written on him with red lipstick. Suspect Yet to be apprehended.
Mary smeared the last of the chocolate cream into her lips, watching as the police light flashed towards the alley she had collapsed behind. Finally the migraine had went away, the taste of vanilla and chocolate swirling down her esophagus into her stomach settling the craziness she had once felt.
3 year later. . . .
It’s said that Mary to this day, now in a mental institution, still after every meal paces back and forth every night the moment the clock strikes 12 AM. Screaming on hours and hours “You Snooze you lose huh! You Snooze You huh! I won I have the sweets Not You! ME!"
Lesson of the story kids: lessen up on the sweets kids, it might drive you crazy