I had a craving for a snack so I went to the Shoppette.
There I was in line gripping my Twix. And some donuts. And the new People magazine. I was also chewing some gum. I decided it would be a splendid idea to blow a bubble. So I concentrated on doing that while the person ahead of me paid for their purchases. (A 7up with a snickers. Mmm. Man I'm a nosy shopper.)
It was my turn when I had the gum around my tongue. The man behind the counter started to ring up my purchases. I gathered my breath to blow the bubble and...
I blew too hard.
My gum flew out of my mouth, went over the counter and landed by the man's feet.
He recoiled as though I had thrown a chunk of poop in his direction. Muttered out, "What the--" while staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Of course I turned red. I mean I couldn't see myself but my face grew very very warm and what I wanted to do was bolt right on out of there. I couldn't though. You see, I go to the shoppette every other day. If I bolted then I'd be forever known as the shopper who spit the gum and then rushed out in embarrassment.
So I managed to find my voice and choke out, "I'm sorry. I meant to blow and bubble and..."
The guy still looked disgusted.
"I'll get the gum. If you just let me step around the counter..."
The guy held his hands out. "No. It's okay, I'll just.." and he fumbled for a tissue, bent down, picked up the offending piece of gum and chucked it in the trash. He tried to force a smile, as if showing me it was all okay, but I could tell he was thinking, "I am so not getting paid enough for this crap."
"I really am sorry," I kept saying as he rang up my items.
"It's fine," he kept saying in a tone that indicated it really wasn't fine.
(This particular guy seems to always be cranky to begin with. A few times I've walked into the shoppette and he's been yelling at the other workers, chastising them for not setting a display up right, going over how they can get people to buy more cookies "Tell them they're fresh out of the oven, remind them of the buy three for one dollar deal," and once he barked at me because I thought the hot chocolate machine was broken and in reality it was just left on the clean mode. When I informed him that no hot chocolate was coming out he looked at it, flipped a switch and went, "It's not broken. It's on clean mode," as though I should have known all along.)
After I paid I gathered my bag. I still felt awful. So I still apoligized.
"It's FINE," the guy said again.
Things like this happen to me all the time.
I should have "clumsy oaf" tattooed on my forehead or something.