A gallon of water.  A plastic 1.75 mL jug of Old Timey whisky.  (I couldn’t afford Thomas Jackson.)  Six days times three meals equals 18 cans of spaghetti and soup, I thought as I tallied the items in my shopping baskets.  And I’ll grab a hot dog and a burrito at the counter for today’s meal.

I hefted the baskets up onto the checkout counter.

Noticing the pepper spray display next to the cash register, I swiped one up and dumped it in a basket.  Then for good measure, I grabbed another.

The 24-7 clerk mechanically stood up from her stool and greeted me with a grin.  “Do you need anything else?” she asked, gesturing to a saucer dotted with tabs of Syn, sitting next to the penny cup.

“Er, no thank you.”

“It’s free.”

“No thanks.  Just bag my items and ring me up, please.”

“Vic, Natalie, Paul, and David have tried it.  Why won’t you try it?”

“What?”

“You best friend, your parents, and your brother—”

I slapped $40 on the counter and grabbed my baskets.  “I hope that covers everything.  I promise to return the baskets,” I said before fleeing the convenience store.

To be continued…

(Or read the story in its entirety in Goddess.)