"I'm hungry." That's what she said.
Unironically that was the first thing she said to me. She caught me off guard. I wasn't ready for a conversation when I walked into the store that day. My only task was to buy a box of Heineken beer and walk out. That was the plan, but I took the time to place a cold can of Monster energy on the side of my face. It was still hurting because of what happened earlier at home.
I made my way to the front of the store. Navigating the maze that led to the tills. It was still morning, so the store was still empty. Just the workers and a few customers. After some time, she called for the next customer. I was the only one left. I placed the beer on the counter and proceeded to greet her.
"I'm hungry." She replied to my greeting. "Do you want to buy me lunch?"
Honestly, she was beautiful, but not Instagram model beautiful. If I had to guess her age, she looked to be a little over 30. She was slightly taller than me, or maybe the floor behind the counter was a step higher, I couldn't tell from my side.
"That depends," I replied as I quickly scrambled to find an answer "What are you in the mood for?"
I laid the case on its side to expose the barcode underneath. A beep echoed as the price appeared on a small LCD screen.
"Shawarma."
"Shawarma?"
Her answer threw me off. I was hoping she would say something like McDonald's. I told her I'm not a fan of shawarma. She looked at me with wide eyes. Somehow, she felt offended by that fact. There were a lot of shawarma places around town. Every block in town had at least 4 restaurants.
"What's wrong with it?" she asked.
"I've had good shawarma and bad shawarma. I've had shawarma with no taste."
I had my fair share of shawarma, but I won't go out of my way to buy it. At least not for myself. She laughed at my explanation. I was low-key enjoying our little conversation. I tapped my card to pay and listened to her list her favorite foods.
"How about pap with chakalaka and chicken?" she asked as she handed me my receipt.
"Now you're talking," I replied, fantasizing about a plate of steaming hot pap and spicy chakalaka.
I could practically taste it until I remembered the previous Christmas. When my Aunty decided to destroy us by adding a ton of chilies to her chakalaka. Let's just say it was a bad day.
"But instead of chicken, how 'bout beef?" I asked after having that PTSD moment.
"So do we have a deal?" she asked with a smile.
I smiled back as I grabbed the beer. That little interaction made my day. Somewhere in my heart, I wanted to buy her something.
"Maybe not today, but… keep that offer open." I replied, "Who knows, I might change my mind."
After I left, I couldn't help but smile. I even had an extra bounce in my step. I knew she was just messing around, but as an introvert, it helps with confidence. As I continued down the street, I realized I never asked her name. I didn't even look for her name tag. I didn't want to be caught looking at her chest. I didn't stress about it because I doubted, I would see her again.
That was what I thought until we met again inside a freezer a few days later.