Survival Of The Fittest

"No. Debit card. Or I'd be a lot more worried about the cost of exploded chip bags."

Carlos' response to this was a slightly more genuine smile and a forced chuckle. Or rather, it wasn't so much genuine as it was...almost sneering.

In this particular part of town, it wasn't exactly unusual to pay with the food stamp card. Maybe not as common as debit cards, but apart from pressing a different button on the pad the government's food money was still good as electronic or hard currency. And white, black, Filipino and everyone in between came in to pay with them.

But Naomi appeared to have become flustered from that remark. And Carlos, a veteran recipient of sneers and jeers himself, knew a glare when he saw one. The supervisor working the register next to him didn't suddenly catch him on it, which was good. As the receipt printed out and he handed it to Naomi, he deduced that could only have meant one thing.

Chalk another one up for Big C.L.

"Okay, you have a good night, Ms. Bell!" he replied, smiling a little more genuinely than he did. Hell, he even waved her off as she left with that kid of hers in tow. The whole thank-by-last-name and parting comment schtick was also store procedure, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he actually enjoyed saying it.

If she did somehow come back to file a complaint, well, the manager would probably have some kind of stern talk with him. It wasn't like he deliberately knocked down the price of some expensive bottle of wine.

The moment of victory, while it was worth all that and the bag of exploded chips which a courtesy clerk was now sweeping up in the aisle, was ultimately fleeting. There were customers waiting to be served. It was a quiet-ish morning compared to others, but that didn't mean he didn't have to be ready to go over the same routine to a complete stranger and/or regular customer than he did with a classmate that just happened to pop in.

It wasn't like third time would be the charm.

Would it?

((Enter Laura Nyquist))

Oh boy, Huggies. Can't have enough of those. Better just toss the entire damn shelf into the cart. Sophia sure does like to go through her diapers.

Laura stood in front of the diapers and began to put some in the cart. Her cart had a lot of the usual shopping requirements: formula, soap, detergent, milk, and now diapers. In the basket of the cart sat a small little girl swathed in a pink blanket and resting in a plastic carrier. The infant was sucking on a pacifier and looking all around her.

"Sophia, I swear, the day you start to use a potty will be the happiest day of my life," said Laura to the infant.

Laura pulled a piece of paper out of her pants pocket. Grabbing the pen she had resting on her ear, she began to scan the list.

Okay, baby formula, bath soap, laundry detergent, milk, diapers, oh yeah, bread. Gah, how could I almost forget that?

Laura began to push the cart towards the bakery of the store. She saw a grocery store employee sweeping up a bunch of chips off the ground.

"Look Sophia. That's what happens if you fool around in a grocery store," Laura said to her baby. "Let's make sure that never happens to us."

Laura soon arrived at the bakery. She began to look around the bread shelves before grabbing a loaf of Nature's Own. As she moved back to her cart, she saw an elderly woman looking at Sophia.

"Oh, she's so precious," the woman said, making goofy faces at Sophia.

Sophia raised her tiny arms up and began to touch the old woman's nose.

"Yeah, she's quite the darling," said Laura.

"Well, aren't you a good big sister for shopping and watching this little girl?"

Laura was silent.

Shit. What do I say?

"Uh yeah, it's no problem. I love spending time with her. Ooh, Sophia, we got to get home!" Laura said as she looked at her watch. "Mom and Dad will be waiting for us."

"Well bye dear," said the old woman, waving at Laura and Sophia as she walked away.

Laura pushed the cart away from the old woman.

Okay, well I didn't really lie to her. I never said she was my baby sister. Plus, my Mom and Dad are waiting for us. Right, let's just go home.

Laura walked up to an open checkout counter. She knew who he was. Carlos Lazaro. They had a few classes together, but that's as far as they interacted socially. Oh well, all that mattered was that he bagged her goods properly.

"Hey," was all Laura had to say as she began to put the items in her cart on the belt.

Carlos had been expecting third time to be the charm in a very bad way. Like maybe Cody Patton or one of the other jocks or pretty princesses showing up to gloat upon his lowly career choice. And they'd have the power to complain to the manager over his word.

But third time had turned out to be the charm in a very good way, and the fashionably-dressed contemporary of his with the baby in the cart was unmistakable from the classes she attended with him.

Laura Nyquist. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

Carlos had only started his American education in high school, so he wan't entirely privy to all of her escapades. But he could vividly - almost too vividly - remember what it was like being the "mutant" in the social spectrum, watching from just outside the proverbial free throw line as she was queen of his world. And boy oh boy was he quite aware of what her shenanigans, its most visible reminder tagging along in her cart. It was certainly hard to believe that this used to be Aurora's Princess of Sin...a title quite possibly delegated to other, more punkish types.

At least they were more open about being whores than she was. Maybe they wouldn't even give two shits about the consequences when those finally reared their ugly heads.

But he was getting distracted. There was a customer, goddammit!

He didn't have to do what he usually did as she fell, a victim of the type of karma he grimly believed was rarely executed save for the occasional internet video video. Specifically, he didn't have to rub it in.

He just smiled out of that rare moment of satisfaction - and he had been doing so almost unconsciously since he saw her roll up to the checkstand.

He never knew if she saw it, but it was that exact same kind of smile he was wearing right now. That it just happened to fit his store's customer service policy of greeting with a smile was a mere coincidence.

"Hey," she began.

"How are you doing, Ms. Nyquist?" Carlos replied as he started to bag each of her items. Good God, he was starting to enjoy this.

At least until they got to that one big bag of diapers. "Would you like a bag for this mo- I mean ma'am?"

Laura began to place her items on the checkout line.

"How are you doing, Ms. Nyquist?"

"I'm fine Carlos," Laura said as she placed the baby food jars on the line.

Man, he has a creepy smile. It's always unnatural when work places force their employees to carry an appearance of joy when they have to do their menial tasks.

Once Laura put the Huggies on the line, Carlos spoke again.

"Would you like a bag for this mo- I mean ma'am?"

"A bag won't be nec- wait. Did you almost call me 'mom'? Do I remind you of your mom in some way?"

Laura raised her left eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. She quickly looked at Sophia, who was still lying quietly in her basket, sucking her pacifier.

"Boy, I must bring up some weird Freudian issues with you if you nearly call me 'mom'," she responded. "Although I have to say, your mom must be really hot if I remind you of her."

Laura giggled to herself as she pulled her wallet out of her purse.

Of course, this guy sees Sophia and subconsciously judges me for it. Superb! He could have just stayed quiet and read his bag boy script, but nope. He had to go there. Man this guy has no finesse.

"So how much will that be?" she asked.

"A bag won't be nec- wait. Did you almost call me 'mom'? Do I remind you of your mom in some way?"

Fuck.

It was times like these that brought on a special kind of embarrassment with Carlos. Particularly, the kind that somehow made his skin feel like it was being pressed against a bed of thumbtacks. The kind that caused him to want to sweat but couldn't. Or maybe it was because it was still a dry month, the same kind of dryness that was causing him to feel like there was a thin layer of sand or powder between his fingers and each of the products.

"Boy, I must bring up some weird Freudian issues with you if you nearly call me 'mom'. Although I have to say, your mom must be really hot if I remind you of her."

Well, he couldn't say that Laura wasn't good at rubbing it in. Even after her protracted, painful fall from grace, she still managed to save her teeth. If only she wasn't the only one. But there wasn't any more time for contemplation as he moved the last items from the receiving belt to the outbound belt where he placed the bags (or passed them to the actual bag boy if he was present.) It was time for a comeback.

"I don't know why you'd be interested but eh, she's okay..." he said nonchalantly, briefly arching his eyebrows as he attempted to make it sound like it, "For 50. She still ages better than some...others I know."

They did say that 'establishing a rapport' was also part of the whole customer service routine too. He just hoped that comeback wasn't too far out of line. Although it wasn't too much of a stretch that he'd end up on the receiving end of a rich family's wrath (something he was unfortunately familiar with), this was a scion that had fallen out of their favor.

Whether they would back up their daughter or leave her to stew was plotting for another day - and preferably time for when he was at home or at least in study hall. There were still customers to be served, and grocery prices to be totaled and paid.

"That'll be twenty-four eighty nine. You need any help out?" he continued, feeling slightly less prickly (literally speaking) than he was only a few seconds ago.

Laura anticipated how Carlos would respond. She figured that her comment about his mother could be read in two ways, and she simply hoped that he would accept the playful crack option. He did make a comment about how good she was for someone who was over fifty. Still, there was one part she wasn't certain about.

"She still ages better than some...others I know."

Okay Laurie, he could either be saying you look like an old skank, or he has some other person to make fun of. It's obviously the former. You're so funny, you dickhead.

"That'll be twenty-four eighty nine. You need any help out?"

"No thank you Mr. Lazaro, I can handle this," said Laura, as she began to open her wallet and count out the bills. She handed Carlos two $20 bills and waited for the change. "Little Sophia here might be an additional eighteen pounds of poop and puke, but I still have two hands that can easily put groceries in the trunk of my car. I can do anything. Bask in my glory."

"No thank you Mr. Lazaro, I can handle this," Laura replied, handing a pair of twenties to Carlos, which he held to one side.

"That'll be out of forty..." he replied, still keeping with store procedure. He then proceeded to type the amount in and process it, the till popping open with another dull thunk as soon as he pressed the last key.

Neither the transaction nor the little verbal tiff had concluded, though. There was enough time for the receipt to print out that both of them could get at least another line in. Time enough that Laura decided to maximize while he inserted the twenties and pulled out the bill change.

"Little Sophia here might be an additional eighteen pounds of poop and puke, but I still have two hands that can easily put groceries in the trunk of my car. I can do anything. Bask in my glory."

It was also a time like this when he wished that he didn't have the automatic coin dispenser doing the hard math. Then he could have a little more time to make a more elaborate comeback than he did.

"Oh, I don't doubt you can do anything," Carlos replied with a sideward glance to Laura as he watched the receipt print out, online survey invitation and all. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here today."

One-liner completed, he handed the receipt and change to her. "The change will be fifteen eleven. You have a nice day now." He then gave a wide-eyed grin and wave at Sophia, hoping she didn't burst into tears. If there was one thing Carlos didn't like, it was to make babies cry and then be tormented with infantile agony. Hell, he probably preferred the most pointed insults and most blunt concussions to his ears over that.

That was, quite simply, fucking unconscionable.

Laura smirked at her last comment as Carlos began to make change.

Bask in my glory. Damn I'm so clever.

The automatic coin dispenser then deposited the change from Laura's payment. She always found those things so fascinating. Just how did they work?

"Oh, I don't doubt you can do anything, otherwise you wouldn't be here today."

Interesting rebuttal. Thanks for confirming how cool I am.

"The change will be fifteen eleven. You have a nice day now."

Carlos handed Laura the change. She began to put the money away as Carlos waved at Sophia. Laura couldn't help but smile at that.

"You have a good day as well," she said.

She then walked over to Sophia's basket and grabbed her small wrist. She moved it back and forth in Carlos's direction.

"Bye bye Cahwos," Laura said in baby talk.

She giggled as she moved the cart forward and loaded her bags into it. She pushed the cart out of the store and into the parking lot. After loading the groceries into the trunk and locking Sophia into her car seat, Laura sat in her used Ford Fusion and adjusted the mirrors.

"Well wasn't that fun Sophia?" she said, speaking to the baby in the back.

The little girl simply sat in the back, chewing on a teething ring.

"Eh, you'll get a better idea of fun soon enough," said Laura as she put the car into drive and left the parking lot.

Although I'll be certain you know the right type of fun.

((Laura Nyquist continued elsewhere))

As Laura left with a cute little baby talk quip, Carlos wondered if the "do" in "do anything" reference flew over her head. It probably did, considering she wasn't further offended by it. And hell, was there a dumb skank like her that actually did know how Beavis & Butt-Head popularized the alternative meaning of the world's shortest verb? At least she didn't report him to his supervisor on the way out.

But that didn't mean he liked the next thing heard right behind him.

"Okay Carlos, break time!" came a distressingly cheery voice from right behind him.

At every branch of this particular grocery store there were always a pair of employees frequently confused for each other. Here, Carlos was one of that unlucky pair, the other being his "good twin" Frank. Frank being only a few months newer than he was, and a smartass in a good way with just a little more hair on his head. That he was actually eight years older was beside the point to bored soccer moms looking to brighten up their otherwise dull existences.

Though he did probably serve as a decoy for those creepy homeless people that wanted to take Carlos out back and molest him after work. The next customer to the stand as Frank arrived fell into neither category, and thankfully not the classmate category.

"Good afternoon sir, Frank here will help you out." Carlos began, his salesman's smile starting to boot.
"Hey, you two are-"
"I know, I get that a lot." Carlos smirked innocently, before tapping the sign-off key on the keyboard and letting Frank take over.

Carlos' smile dropped like a hot potato (and quicker than he could pull his apron off) as soon as he signed off, letting the customer make the usual remark about how his replacement was a clone or something to that effect. He would have about 10 minutes before he opened up another checkstand and hope that the customers didn't notice the so-called "twins" in the 2 hours before he headed back home and sought refuge in the virtual like all the folks he lashed out at for finding such refuge.

But for now, it was another store-branded energy drink down his throat, piss out the other end and washing his hands until they fucking cracked like leather.

Just another day in paradise.

((Carlos Lazaro continued elsewhere))