by Kitty Parker
Maybe I'll have better luck with a packet of sugar.
Made in China.
"Again?" I snorted at the sugar packet scaring an old lady walking down the aisle. I smiled and waved at her but she only walked faster, sending me an odd look at certain intervals and then disappearing into another aisle.
"Oh well" I shrugged with a sheepish smile chucking the sugar in the trolley also. Grandmother didn't say anything about scaring the elderly.
I continue making my way around collecting stuff and shoving it in my trolley, the lot of it was made in China. I was determined to find items that weren't.
"Fruitloops? China?" I muttered "Why is everything imported!? Why?"
I begin to bang my head on a metal poll and someone taps me on the shoulder "Need help ma'am?" he wants to know.
Yes, I do need help. Give me the president's number and a phone, preferably one with video calling or something of the sort. I want to show him all the stupid Made in China signs. Made in China my ass, bloody China.
I look at the boy, and then I look at his nametag Boris Screwd. I snorted stifling back laughter, Boris Screwd? As if his first name wasn't bad enough-no offence to the Boris's of this world-he had to go have a last name like Screwd.
"Uh, no? Yes?" he inquired timidly.
Wouldn't it be funny if his middle name was is?
"Ma'am?" he tried again.
"No thanks," I said patting his head with a wry grin "you can go back to watching the TV near the checkouts now."
I strolled off still in search for a non-imported item taking a glance at the TV to find a clip of Lindsay Lohan shopping with her Mum on it. Ireally don't understand celebrities.
Me? I wouldn't want to be shopping with my Mum, even if she was a good one. Well, atleast at Lindsay's age. And as for shopping with your kids, especially when they're in their teens, forget it. I wouldn't want to spend any more time then was needed with the critters, children areselfish. They also happen to get ruder every year.
When I was a kid you wouldn't catch any other kids swearing at each other or having fist fights. As the comical genius Kathy Griffin quotes: We were raised right; we talked behind people's backs. If at all.
I rolled my eyes as it then stuck a bunch of clips of Paris Hilton showing off her boobs to public. Well to be fair, Paris probably didn't do itintentionally. She just happens to bend over a lot. In front of cameras. With skimpy tops on. You know, 'Oops, I dropped my bra!' it happens to the best of us.
"Ah" I cried spotting something that didn't have a Made in China sign on it. It was cat food. Well, I could force feed it to taffy.
I picked up the packet and chucked it in the trolley gleefully.
Mission: Find something that isn't made in China.
Status: Complete.
I looked at the shopping list.
Get my personal cream.
Personal cream? I made a face at the list. What was personal cream?
"Hey Boris!" I called waving him over from where he was looking at a picture of Paris cooing at a baby. Bloody baby licker.
"Yes ma'am?" he said with a friendly grin. Poor boy, probably hasn't gotten any from his female co-workers because of his name tag. Then again, I'm not one to talk. Well, unless you count getting your boobs squeezed by a jerk. And I don't.
"Do you by any chance know what 'personal cream' is?" I inquired "And if so can you get sine for me?"
"P-personal cream ma'am?" He stammered reddening, quite resembling my picture of 'Mr Terrible Tomato'. Well, without the hole in it. And if it didn't resemble a red-iced donut.
I looked down at the list again "Yeah, that's what it says."
I shrugged to myself as he scuttled off, still with his face a delightfully bright shade of red.
When he returned he shoved a little container of something into my hands and returned hurriedly back to his post where they had finally put something good on. Kathy Griffin of course, what a lovely truth-speaking doll!
I examined the container and nearly threw it at the old lady who was peeking warily at me from the end of the aisle when I saw what it was.
Do you want to know what this 'personal cream' crap is? No? I'll tell you anyway. It was vagina cream. No wonder the poor boy ran off, I would have. Well, actually, that's a lie. I wouldn't have. I would have laughed. A lot.
I'm pretty lucky I'm not my Shop Assistant; I would have killed me for that. Now the boy probably thinks I have problems, and not just mental ones. Ones you-know-where. Dandy.
I wonder if I should get all home-brand stuff for what's on the rest of the list. That would really annoy Grandmother. She has this thing against home-brand and I don't know why.
My Mum was all for it as I recall from when I was tiny, she'd shove me towards the aisles and be all 'Get me all this honey and you can keep the change!' and the percentage of what she had the list said 'HB' next to it. I ended up getting all this crap we didn't need because at that stage I couldn't read too brilliant. As I was only 3.
The change was only ten cents. Mum was all optimistic about it though 'Save that for 4 shopping trips and you can buy yourself a lollypop!'. Nice, I'm one rich little girl now.
In case you haven't noticed Mum, you have a truckload of lollypops hidden in the top cupboard. You may have thought I was unable to get into them, but trust me, I had my ways.
So yeah, Mum loves home-brand, Grandmother hates it with a passion. It's like kryptonite to her. One time when I was 5 she took me shopping and asked me to go choose a bag of lollies. I chose home-brand lollypops and Grandmother almost fainted when I showed her them, she was practically gagging. Grandfather was laughing at her, hysterically. He then chucked it in the trolley. Grandmother nearly died. I haven't been allowed to do the shopping since. Well, until now.
I suppose I shouldn't really get all the rest of the stuff in home-brand, it might lead the poor lady to an early death. I'll just her some home-brand tea, that'll learn her. She loves tea, and she would also die if she was forced to use it at one of her little tea parties. Well, not die. She'd just hyperventilate a little. It's all good.
Browsing along the aisles I chucked items in, my eyes lighting up when I saw the teabags. The look on Grandmothers face when she sees them? Priceless.
Get that nice boy that was here the other day a box of chocolates dear.
Oh please, she only likes him because he got me out of the house and kept me from going to work. Grandmother doesn't like where I work, Grandmother hates animals. She says she only 'tolerates' Taffy. Which is a total lie; everybody loves that dog.
Even our next door neighbour likes Taffy and she doesn't like anything, she throws apples at kids as they walk across the street. Though I guess Grandmother doesn't like a lot of things also, she would be right out on our front lawn joining the lady next-door if it wasn't for 'animal cruelty'. Oops, I mean 'child abuse'. Same thing really.
I grabbed a couple bars of chocolates and dropped them into the trolley, so what if it wasn't in a box? Not like I am giving him Valentines or anything. Because I wouldn't.
On to the checkout! I jumped onto the back of a trolley and pushed off the ground, heading towards the checkouts. I glanced and saw a blonde head, was that Kelly? I think it was. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not stereotyping all blondes for Kelly. That would be bad. Some blonde's are smart, you know?
It's just Kelly has a unique hair do; it's like all flippy and stuff. And very, very, very blonde.
Was she crying? I think she was. What's happened this time I wonder? Maybe she didn't manage to convince her friends that having her eyes all red was a good thing. Or it could be that boyfriend of hers, gees his an-
BOOOMMMM!
Maybe...not looking where you are...going...is a bad thing? I think I'm dying. I didn't even get to write a will.
"Miss," someone addressed me roughly, yanking me from the ground. "We're going to have to ask you to leave."
That's just great.
I stood there, dizzily imagining the tro
lley getting up and dancing as they collected the food off the ground.
They lead me over to the checkouts. Of course they have to make the people pay up for their groceries before they shove them out the door, it's the right thing to do.
Well, atleast I won't get yelled at for not getting the groceries. Despite the fact I am probably going to be banned from this grocery store for the rest of, oh I dunno, eternity? Just for spilling over the stir fry stand. Which isn't even a bad thing, who likes stir fry? I don't.
The lady from the bakery section of the supermarket is looking at me strangely. I guess the stir fry stand was in front of her section. But what does she think I am going to do? Steal her cheese and onion buns? Eat all her candles?
"Miss, it is time to go." The rough-voiced man told me, getting these muscly guys to escort me out of the shop.
They were dragging me and everything while I yelled to the Shop Assistant 'I don't have problems down there, I swear I don't!' flailing my arms around in protest. It was brilliant.
Chapter 10: I praying mantis his nether regions are ok.
-
"Come on you stupid piece of-nnghh!" I cried stabbing the bull's eye angrily; it just wouldn't cut damn it!
"Come on girls. We're examining them," informed Mr Gregory intelligently "not sending them to the butchers"
He then began chuckling to himself at his attempt at making a joke. Sorry Mr G, try again. Not funny. Besides, who eats eyeballs?! I wouldn't eat an eyeball if someone paid me, they smell really bad. It would also be rather intimidating. Because like it would be staring at you, how can you eat something that is staring at you?
"Hurry up girls, the bell is about to go." He berated. Not like half the girls didn't know already, their eyes if not glued to their mobile phones were glued to the clock at the front of the room. The others were battling away, stabbing at their eyeballs. Well, the bull's eyeballs.
Stab, stab, stab, STAB. Yes, I got through finally-ppghhshhh. Oops.
"Ew!" shrieked the girl in front of my bench. I had kind of hit her with eye-goop.
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! Ah, saved by the bell! Sorry shrieky, I must dash and leave you and the eye-goop to yourselves. My greatest apologies of course.
The girl turned around.
Oh. My. God. I had just hit Kelly Kosher with eye-goop! Hahah! Brilliant.
I better get out of here before she notices who did it though, she might send her minions after me. Who knows what they'd do, they could attack me with eyelash curlers or something.
I dashed out of the science lab.
"REESE ANDERSON-"
I slammed the door in her face and hurried to detention. She can't prove it was me who did it. Besides, it was totally accidental. Atleast I hadn't set her hair on fire like I would have done-by accident of course-if we were doing chemistry. She should think herself lucky.
"Whew," I breathed leaning back on the detention door with relief. Hopefully I had escaped the Kellynator "thank god for detention."
The teacher sent me a withering look "I hope Miss Anderson," he said "you don't intend to get yourself into more trouble."
"Oh whys that Sir?" I inquired with a smirk; did I annoy him that much? He just raised his eyes to the heavens and went back to staring at his desk. It's odd; I don't even know his name yet.
I went and sat down next to The Pervert who quirked an eyebrow at me. I shrugged "You'd only follow me and sit next to me anyway."
He snorted and offered me half his candy bar "I recall hearing your name being screamed into the corridors, what did you do this time?"
"Well, I just got eye-goop on Kelly." I explained.
"Oh?" he said raising an eyebrow yet again "And what is this 'eye-goop'?"
"Oh you know, just bull's eye liquids." I said waving it off with a hand "No biggie."
"Brilliant." He snickered "Utterly brilliant."
"That's what I thought," I agreed with a smirk "but Kelly just didn't seem to understand did she?"
"But of course," The Pervert grinned "it's to be expected from evil space aliens who are devoid from any normal human emotions."
"I dunno, I have seen her cry. She seems atleast semi-normal." I challenged with a mock thoughtful expression.
"No, I think she's just malfunctioning. Probably tried to straighten her ear with her hair straightener." He said with a shake of his head.
I let out a snort of laughter which the teacher halted with a 'hep-hem'.
"Yes sir?" I inquired smiling sweetly, catching a glance at his name tag.
Mr Screwd
Covering my mouth I managed to keep myself from making a scene. Not that I would have minded that much but anyway. The teacher-ahem-Mr Screwd obviously had something to say.
"I have something to say Miss Anderson, if you don't mind." He said dryly. See what did I tell you? Teachers always had something to say. Well, most of the time. Given the chance I think they could waffle on all day. "Today class, we are going to be doing trust exercises."
Some of the class just groaned, some yawned, some emitted bodily noises and some started throwing pieces of paper at the person in front of them. You know, general response to any teacher's suggestion. Well, atleast with the JD's and burnouts.
"Now," said Mr-gigglesnort-Screwd, puffing up importantly "I want you to all pair up in two's."
"What other way can you 'pair' up?" muttered The Pervert beside me. I snorted in agreement, but as some people in class still looked rather miffed by it all, I guess it was kind of necessary.
It was a very bad idea to suggest us to pair up however. It wasn't just trust issues these people had and if Mr Screwd even suggested their problems would go away with a nice big hug-I'm sure they would probably punch him.
Me? I was the kind of girl who would laugh and play along for her own amusement. Them? They eat metal bolts for breakfast. True, I hadn't actually seen them. Eat metal bolts, I mean. But you could totally tell they wanted to. I have seen the way those guys from metalworks eye a metal bolt. It's not pretty.
People got up from their seats and started circling each other like Discovery Channel animals. You could also refer to Lion King to see similar behaviour. This wasn't detention, it was a zoo. Don't worry, I'm just visiting. Soon I'll escape to pass go and collect $200.
I looked away from observing the zoo population to find The Pervert gawking in mortification at a scantily-clad eyelined panda walking towards him.
"Hi-" she started flirtatiously before being interrupted by The Pervert.
"Please don't use that tone with me." he said with a cringe.
"Your loss." She said with a shrug, turning around to go find herself another alpha-male to attend to.
"What did she want from me?!" he shuddered.
"Well, judging from the looks she was giving you she wanted many things." I responded with a snicker "But, since it's you, she probably just thought you had bamboo sticking out your ear."
"How very flattering of you to say." He muttered sardonically.
"I thought so." I complied; I would have said something more but some tough-looking brute had walked up to me. I think he was one of the gorilla-species.
"Hey babe, you are going to be my partner." He told me confidently "I promise to be gentle with you."
Babe? I really detest that word. Well, unless it refers to a newborn something or other. But in case you haven't noticed, I was born 17 years ago.
Also, why does he assume I am going to be his partner? Especially when he is treating me like a hooker. He isn't even paying me. Sorry dude, but you're not my Romeo. No money, no funny bunny honey. Not that I'd do it for money, but you know.
"Sorry, dude," The Pervert said irritably "but she is not going to be your partner."
"I believe I asked the lady," sneered The Brute "so, Anderson is it? Are you going to be my partner?"
Both boys eyes fell on me, The Brute looked smug whereas The Pervert looked downright peeved.
I turned my head to The Brute, cleari
ng my throat.
"Your breath smells funny." I told him with a serious nod "Did you eat garlic for breakfast or something? You should fix that."
The Brute blinked back at me. The Pervert snorted and crossed his arms over his chest triumphantly.
"I-is that a no??" The Brute asked sounding genuinely confused about it all.
"Bing! Cooorrrecct! You may move on to the next round!" I cried clapping for him before turning back to The Pervert "So, Pervert boy. Do you trust me?"
He blinked before grinning "We'll see."
After a couple minutes the whole class was paired up and Mr Screwd was rearing to go. Strangely enough, Miss Panda and The Brute were partners. I guess their interests were similar.
"We are going outside to do our detention class today as we will need space to perform activities." He told us, pointing to a field outside the window. Just what kind of activities was he planning on making us partake in?
None the less we followed him outside scratching our heads and stepping on the heels of the people in front of us. Yes, I know. Tres mature.
Once there, he asked us to grab hold of our partner's hands. Which was rather awkward for some of the boys who were paired up together.They didn't want to hold hands. Then he asked us to stare into each others eyes for 60 seconds, what is up with that?
So we all stood there, holding our partners warm hands and staring into their hazel eyes. Damn, I think they're prettier than mine.
About ten seconds later we heard a thump. I think someone had fallen asleep. I tried to keep from snickering as everyone else was silent. The Pervert looked like he had his work cut out for him too; the sides of his mouth were twisting.
Someone let out a snore that sounded like my Grandmothers sewing machine when it needs repairing. You know, like a dying koala. I was really having trouble now. It was if we had taken an oath not to speak, yet The Teacher technically didn't ask us to.
THUMP! I think someone else just fell asleep.
Something's crawling up my leg.
If it's a spider I might get bitten and die. I want to flick it off.
Are we allowed to move?
If we aren't I think the people who fell over are out.
