Originally published on Medium here.
I’m on edge.
As I look down the aisle in the supermarket, I assess my options.
I can see it from where I stand, where I want to end up. At the end, sat on the second shelf- the last one left. If I venture down the aisle now, I could get it. Ten steps and I’d be there, if it were so simple.
Option 1 is the most direct, yet also the most hazardous. To succeed would take careful calculation.
A woman stands to the left of the aisle, just a few metres from where I hover. She’s bent over, her wrinkled brow furrowed as she assesses the limited canned goods on offer. Picking each one up to analyse the label before returning it to the shelf. I cringe, wishing for the millionth time that I’d stocked up on hand sanitizer while I still had the chance. Not that now is a time for regrets, I remind myself, I need to be alert.
If I’m careful, I think I could just about shimmy past her without coming into contact. It’d be tight, but not impossible. Once out of range I’d have a clear line to my goal. It’s very tempting, but risky. No variation of the route would allow me to pass without violating her two meter radius, and my own.
Option 2 is safer, but I’d need to act fast. If I continue on my current path, I stand a chance of making it past the self-checkouts before anyone appears. This would allow me to sneak around the back of the aisle, and accomplish my goal- the very reason I took the risk of coming here in the first place.
However, if just one person enters the store before I’ve made it, then mission aborted. There’s no way there’s room for both of us in the space. I might as well call it a day and go home. I’ve had enough anxiety for one trip.
With a sudden wave of purpose, I make my decision, bolting in the direction of the self-checkout. My hair stands on end and I can feel my heart beating hard in my chest.
I’m moving fast and its paying off. I pass the half way point without anyone entering through the sliding doors. I can feel the eyes of the girl at the till on my back as I round the corner. I’m so close. I can almost feel the relief waiting, ready to flood my veins when the moment comes, when all of this is over.
I’m past the checkout, past the doors, round the corner and I look up to the second shelf. I’m already reaching out, ready to grasp its neck, the very thing that brought me here in the first place. My hands grasp…nothing. It’s gone.
I’m in a frenzy. My head rips around, tears already pricking my eyes as the reality of what I have lost begins to hit me. She’s standing there, less than a metre a way, so close we could almost be touching. I flinch as her hand reaches out to me, every nerve in my body begging me to take flight, save myself.
“Here you go love” she says, handing me the bottle, “I’ve got a stash in my garage anyhow and I can tell you could do with a glass of this tonight.”
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