Shoes

I find a pair of shoes I like and ask to try them on.
The clerk says she doesn't carry half sizes
So I choose the next one up,
Which turns out to be too big.
I request the next size down, but
She frowns at me
While balancing six boxes that no one wanted.
I say, I'm sure they will fit.
She sighs world weariness and says OK.
After a long time she emerges from the back with my shoes.
She hands me the box with an expression that begs for acceptance,
Silently imploring me to buy them without trying them on
So she doesn't have to pack them up and lug them away.
The shoes are much too snug but I don't have the
Heart not to buy them.
Maybe I can squeeze into them a few times and so get use out of them.
I'll take them, I say, but she seems to know they don't fit.
She says, You don't have to.
I say, They fit really well and they're perfect and
I wouldn't have found them without your help.
I can tell she sees right through me.
Please don't buy them on my account, she says,
I really couldn't handle that today.
I try to convince her but she pulls the shoes away from me and puts them on a tall pile to be returned to inventory later.
She says, I don't always act this way.
I don't say anything else.
Neither does she.
I walk away but immediately try to think of an excuse to go back that won't make her feel pitied.
I want to save her from having to kneel in front of people,
Smell their socks,
Spend hours standing on ladders, searching for shoes.
Is there a way to engage her without making her feel worse?
I wander aimlessly around the store for a few minutes but soon return to the shoe department.
She's vanished, along with my dreams of deliverance.

 © Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo by How can I recycle this?

15 Item Limit

The woman behind me objects.
You have more than 15 items.
I look in my basket.
Nineteen.
Close enough, I say.
She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me as if
I am the worst person in the world.
She points at the sign.
I say, Three apples count as one item.
She shakes her head and says, That's still too many.
Sour face.
I shrug, turn away,
No time for petty bitches,
Put my groceries on the moving belt.
That man has too many items, she tattles to the cashier,
Who looks at me with understanding eyes.
Her name tag says DEBBIE, and she says,
I'll go faster then, and gives me what I think is a wink.
The impatient lady sighs, Well fine then.
I nod thanks to Debbie who says My pleasure, and
I fall in love with her on the spot.
Debbie is probably too old for me, but overcomes it with
An agreeable demeanor and accommodation,
Magnetic and somehow erotic.
If I lean over to kiss her she would not resist,
I'm sure.
Nice of you, I whisper so no one will hear.
Do you need some help out? she asks..
Yes, I say bravely, If it's you.
Debbie smiles warmly and seems to understand my interest.
I'll get a bag boy to help you, she says, But I think you can handle it, right?
It is her polite way of dismissing an infatuation she sees all day.
I can, I say.
Debbie holds out my receipt and I touch her hand taking them.
She doesn't pull away, but looks me straight in the eye and says,
Have a great rest of the day.
I hang my head, lift my two bags, and
Glance back at the woman who is nudging her basket toward me.
Some people don't have any manners and don't know how to count, she says,
Some people.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo by Poemfix

Kindness

Old man at the store
Shuffled and limped
Despite his cane
I hurried ahead of him
To offer a shopping cart
It would have been his anyway
But that would have deprived me of
Small goodness
A feeling of having earned my right to be a human
For a day
It wasn't necessary
He would have made it just fine
Didn't really need my assistance
Selfish, I know
Forcing him to accept my help
Here you go, I said
And gave him no option
He smiled weakly
Said, Thanks
I took my victory and felt worthy
For five minutes
I saw him in the aisle later and we nodded to each other
Him, perhaps for my kindness
Though likely aware of my manipulation
Me, for his disability and gift
And allowing me to use him

© Poem Fix http;//www.poemfix.com 2012