One Day At The Market

He's shopping, getting groceries and being consumed in himself at the same time. For some strange reason, this is the time to rearrange and purge files in his mental rolodex, unaware of the surroundings; the thought process goes from tuna to taxes in mere seconds. He is being watched.

The irony of him in the produce isle being viewed won't hit him until his drive home, as he measures fruits, melons and such he is also being measured. Eyes meticulously segmenting characteristics and visible flaws, putting them in their respective bins. It's determined that he not average, slicker than your average maybe. He seems comfortable in this environment and purposeful in gathering what he wants. He has no visible list, but is observed looking upward, eyes rolling up and to the right. His knows what he wants and is very direct in getting it. He goes right where he needs to go and move towards his next item without haste.

Is he being judged based on the selections in his cart? Maybe. She knows that he is oblivious to the external at this moment, and his method and meaning can be determined just by watching him shop. She watches him walk down lanes measuring his strength, observes his thought process as he sorts through various fruits and vegetables and critiques the manner of how he carries himself. She's measuring him for more than a conversation; she had already given thought to much more. Her though process lingers on what kind of morning vibe he'll give upon arising after a standard night of dinner, chores, pillow talk and spooning each other to fall asleep.

She knows that she cannot answer all of her questions without interaction. Her satisfaction of the unspoken need is being met through voyeurism. She needs to hear his voice so a plan must me made to make him speak. She needs to make eye contact in order to see how he addresses a woman. She needs to know how he would treat his mother from how she is to be addressed. At this point she knows that the method of his touch can either make her either physically ill or remarkably wet depending on his method, so her approach is calculated. Time is always a factor so she must act before he finishes gathering all of the items on his list.

He makes his way to the dairy freezer and grabs a half gallon of skim milk. "Good" she thinks. Small bags of veggies, lots of grains and skim milk as well as an empty left ring finger not only means he lives alone but that he's also conscious of his body. She notices that his shirt is tucked in and that his belt is carefully lined with the zipper of his jeans. Yes, she's peeping the bulge. His wears an openly unzipped windbreaker top matching both his jeans and shoes. "Neat" she's thinking. "An organized man. He is aware of how he's seen. Outgoing".

She walks up to the opposite freezer door looking to make eye contact through the glass, thus keeping distance and getting close enough to really experience his vibe. She was not prepared to take in his scent. It freezes her in a manner that one would enjoy, but would also be embarrassed because she was giving a blank stare into an open freezer, and she wasn't checking milk expiration dates.

It wasn’t because he made eye contact and spoke on the other side of the glass that she couldn’t hear him, she was too fixated on the thickness and moistness of his lips to make out any words coming out of them. He showed concern as he closed the door and made his way to her. She didn’t move. He came closer. She couldn’t breathe. His arm extended to her as he continued to speak valuable, but inaudible words…