I dash into da Famalee Dolla Sto for a 2-liter Co-Cola. The place is empty except for Keanan the 7-foot tall cashier who I suspect took the short bus and probably had a sign in the front yard that said, “Slow Children Playing”. I grab the cola from the 6-foot tall rack, round the corner to the check-out, plop the cola on the counter, omit the, “How’s it going” as I know Keanan lacks pleasantry. Then I reach into my pocket and fumble for money. All in that order.
Surprisingly, Keanan says, “dolla 34” before I even hear the beep of the UPC. I happen to notice a penny on the floor as I pull out a dolla 33. I reach down to pick up the penny and in so doing I hear the unmistakable scuffing noise of house shoes behind me. Next the sound of a box landing on the counter. Then the sound of teeth sucking. Then a weave scratching. She looks like she sounds. I notice a box of Kotex on the counter. As Keanan slooooowly puts the cola in a plastic bag she says, “Um, do ya’ll have a bath'oom?”