Baby Ruth and Consequences

 

Standing beside her was almost difficult to do.  She was a constant blur of activity even when in line at the grocery check out.  Its not that she fidgeted, just that she was always moving, doing something.  Somehow her movement was disturbing while being entrancing.

            She smiled at me politely as she unloaded her cart full of fresh vegetables and low fat everything.  I kept waiting to see the pint of Ben and Jerry’s, but it never came.  She emptied her cart with a ferocious sense of conscious effort, twisting and working her well-toned abs that were teasingly visible beneath her short shirt.

            Her cart now devoid of any groceries her eyes were drawn toward the candy and gum. I watched as her stare lingered on the candy bars wantonly.  With an almost painful sigh she broke her gaze, looked up and grabbed a pack of outrageously minty gum.  I imagine her later, chewing forcefully, embittered by the fact that it didn’t taste like chocolate.

            The cashier finished scanning her groceries, smiled and said, “Your total comes to one-thirty-seven.”  She smiles broadly, pulls out her credit card and hands it to him.

“Thank you.”  Her voice is cordial, but there is the slightest hint of sadness in it. She looked at the last few items being bagged, wishing for something fattening, her smile fading at the corner of her lips as the pubescent bagboy tops the last big with a head of romaine.  The cashier hands her the printout and she signs it slowly, as though her fingers were tired.  I think her desires were wearing her restraint thin, and that maybe, next time, the battle would be lost.