Breakups and bananas

The cashier smiles as she scans my coffee.

“You’re doing it right,” she says. “This is the best stuff we carry.”

“You only live once, so you might as well make it count.”

“That’s going to be my new philosophy,” she says. “I just got out of a relationship with a real Neanderthal.”

As she rings up the rest of my groceries, she explains how she wasted “too much” time on the Neanderthal, how he cheated on her, and how he still refuses to return the car her dad lent him.

“He sounds like a piece of work,” I say.

“Yeah, total Neanderthal. I don’t even know what I saw in him.”

“Move on,” I say. “Find someone better, someone who treats you with respect.”

“Yes! That’s what I’m going to do.”

Then she notices that the bananas I’ve selected look a little “worked over.”

I run to get some new ones. These bananas cost a little more than the ones she already scanned, but she tells me not to worry about it.

“You listened to my crap,” she says. “That’s got to be worth a few bananas.”

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