"Getting Milk"

What was I getting again? Oh, there’s Jason. I haven’t seen him in a while. I’d like to stop and chat but I came here to get . . . Milk! I came here to get milk. I came here to get milk, cookies and a pineapple. I’ll just mosey on over to the produce section and check out their selection. Hmm, this pineapple looks good. Mom didn’t really give any specifics. I’ll just put this in my basket and proceed towards the milk. Milk, milk, mil - Are those cocktail weenies? I’ll just stop and have a few, pick up some complimentary napkins. No! I came here to get milk; I can have cocktail weenies after I’m done. On my way to get some mil – Is that free pizza? Ohh, be strong George, be strong. You know, I’m pretty proud of myself for – strawberry shortcakes! Oh, now that’s just not fair. I mean honestly, strawberry shortcakes! I guess just having one wouldn’t hurt, and besides I deserve something for saying no to those other culinary temptations. Mmm, this is so good; I could have another one. No, I’ve sat down long enough, I’ll just pick up some complimentary napkins and than I need to continue on. I’ve had my strawberry shortcakes; nothing can stop me now. Free gummy worms? Nope, keep walking. Ice cream floats? Nope, just a few more steps . . . and ah! I’ve got the milk. I’m not sure how good of a story this will be for class. It seems like it’s been pretty uneventful. Ah well, now to just place the milk in my basket next to the pineapple and see what’s next. Let’s see, oh good. Cookies!

            George pulled the list from his pocket and began the process of deciphering his handwriting. Let’s see, oh good! Cookies! George’s face lit up as he thought about the selection of cookies before him. He began drooling but caught himself, it’s a good thing I took some extra napkins. Boy it’s cold in this section.

George wiped his mouth, put the napkins back in his pocket and wondered, why are my pockets wet? George didn’t give much thought to his cold pockets, he reasoned, It’s probably just the condensation from the milk . . . which does feel unusually light. George was unaware that his milk was in fact leaking all over his pants, his mother’s pineapple and the newly cleaned grocery store floor. I think I’ll get the sugar cookies. The milk had now formed puddles around George’s feet. I really like sugar cookies. The milk slowly made it’s way through the aisle, presenting threats to customer’s stability as it seeped and flowed. The milk had already claimed one victim. Wow, that must have hurt. People really should watch where they’re goiiiiing! George stepped out into the milk and slipped. Where did all this milk come from? George thought. Oh No! It’s my milk! The mystery of George’s wet pockets, the surprising lightness of his milk, it all became clear as George counted one more victim in this accident; his cookies. Noooooo! George cried. The tears poured like milk from an open container.

 “No use crying over spilled milk.” A fellow customer commented. George did not appreciate the advice.

“It’s not the milk I’m crying over you idiot. It’s my cookies.”

“That’s how the cookie crumbles.” The customer said with a grin on his face. George thought, how do these people find me? Do I have a sign on my back that says talk to me I care what you think? That’s it. I’m just going to get up. Purchase my mother’s pineapple and go home. My pineapple’s all right isn’t it. Don’t tell me something happened to the pineapple?

“Excuse me, but is this your pineapple? There are pieces scattered all over the floor. You might want to pick them up.”

George was too tired to yell, cry or display any sort of emotion. He began walking over to the pineapple pieces picking them up one by one. All George could do at the moment was sigh.