“He’s no James Franco, but he looks kind of like him. When he talks, he…. I know, it wasn’t a real conversation, but still, we had a little talk. I asked him a question and he answered. Like I was saying, when he talks, he smiles and looks down at the same time. Isn’t that just like James Franco? I saw James Franco on Conan O’Brian last night. He was telling a long story and his eyes just focused on the floor…. Oh stop it! Do you want to see him or not? I’ll let you have my shift next week, so you can check him out. He always comes in on Monday and Friday, just before sunset…. Yeah, like, right about now. He might be here anytime. Listen, he’ll buy a quart of milk, two beers, and a pack of cigarettes…. Yes, milk and beer! I know it’s weird, but you know what I think? He works construction, at the new casino. He may look kind of dusty, but he doesn’t smell bad. He must be one of those rare guys who works until the last drop of sweat but still takes care of himself. I think he has the beers and cigarettes after a long day, and he saves the milk for breakfast.”
DING, the bell over the door sounds.
“Oh, he’s here! I’ll call you back.”
A man opens the door and stands in the doorway for a moment. He is backlit by bright orange sunshine. The store clerk can only see the silhouette of his body, but she knows that it’s him, the James Franco guy. Seeing that silhouette is the favorite part of her week.
“How are you?”
“Good”, he answers. She can’t see his face but she can sense a smile. As he calmly enters the store, her heart is racing.
She pretends to be busy at the counter as he picks out his groceries. She can hear the CLINK of bottles. That’ll be the beers. Then the WHUP of the fridge door. And that’s the milk. He’s walking over here now!
She reaches down and touches a pack of cigarettes in the case below the counter. Marlboro Milds, always.
“A pack of Marlboro Milds, please.” He is standing in front of her now.
“Here you go. Is that all?”
“That’ll do it.”
“Did you find everything alright?”
“Everything is sweet”, he says. She smiles.
Between ringing up the milk and cigarettes, she stops. She doesn’t feel quite normal, like too much blood has rushed to her head. She’s not sick, she just needs some courage to start a conversation. The same thing happened last week when she asked him where he worked. And today she wants to know more.
“Can I ask you a question?” she finally says.
“Sure.”
“I don’t mean to be nosy…. But, um, are these all for yourself?”
“You mean the beers? Two aren’t too many, are they?”
“No, I mean, um, I’ve just never seen anyone get milk and beer together at a convenience store.”
“Well, maybe I’ll make two trips next time.”
“Excuse me?”
“Beer and cigarettes one day. And I’ll come back for milk the next day.”
“Oh, I don’t mean to make problems. You’re always welcome. You can buy anything you want…. Please, just forget it.”
“No, I’d like to. You’ll be here, right?”
For a second, she is completely frozen, trying to understand what she just heard. Slowly, the corners of her lips curl upward, and so do his. There are no more words between them, not even when she hands him the groceries, but they both know they’ll see each other more often the following week.
DING. He steps out of the store. The sun has set now and there isn’t enough light to make a silhouette, but she doesn’t care. As soon as he’s gone, her fingers quickly dial a number. I can’t give my shift to her!