Suspicious Minds

Boy [this is just something I've picked up from Holden Caulfield a.k.a. the guy in Cathcher in the Rye] did Elvis know what he was singin' about.

Let me elaborate: I was sent by a lovely mother to go out shopping. I was delighted by the prospect, despite the crappy area of the supermarket - I got to buy chocolate cream! [Nutella, in case anyone's wondering. It's my secret drug.]
And I had already, after an arduous search, retrieved the objects of my desire. Nutella, peanut butter [I'm a virgin when it comes to peanut butter - and almost everything else. My mother thinks it's a disgusting thing, and I had money. I thought I'd give peanut butter a chance...We have reached an acceptable, though not promising symbiosis.] low-fat cheese [for the most brilliant pancake filling ever, courtesy of my Mum], some sour cream. I knew something was missing, but I couldn't remember what. I texted my Mum with a simple question: "Need any milk?". She called back, said yes, and I had to step out of the line.

I said "Excuse me" to the only lady behind me and simply went round her, being extremely careful not to bludgeon her with ym shopping cart. She, in return, gave me the most disdainfully reproachful look I think I have ever received.

I'm a nice kid, I smile, I'm polite. I smiled, I was polite, and she was still mean. I mentally threw a swearword at her and her jaded look as I hurried down the aisle and put her out of my mind. I got the milk - both requested cartons, you see, it was pancake day - and rushed back to the line. The best choice was behind the mean-assed lady that had stare-abused me earlier. I approached her burgundy clothed back and sat there. She threw back another ugly look at me as she lay on the counter her 4 bags of chips and about 20 coffee packs. Those small ones you just plop into water and wait around for until they dissolve and give you the unhealthiest drink in your life, second only to the gut-liquifying, stomach-burning, diluted tar that is Coke. Like I said, she threw me another disgusted look [like I was the one buying all the packaged chemicals] and moved a step forward.

I kept thinking that I smelled. I didn't, I'd showered. I sniffed my amrpit - Rexona all the way, everyday. So no, it wasn't the smell, it was the simple fact that I was a younger person stepping out of the line, out of that perfect little line of people.
The lady went away, with her pudgy smudged eyes averted, I hope - I cared not enough to look.

My revenge was a retribution. Behind me, was a little gypsy kid, buying some sort of pen or pencil. I let him jump line and come in front of me, just because I felt like it.

Eat that, black-eyed lady.

Because we can't go on living together with suspicious minds.

P.S.: Let the little kids jump line, and just don't care if they stare. Those people are barren.
P.P.S.:"There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." - Leonard Cohen.