Chase

A chilled breeze blew through my long, blonde hair as I sat outside the grocery store I worked at.  I opened a bag of potato chips as I watched customers go in and out. A few chips fell to the ground as the bag burst open.  I glanced down at some ants devouring a candy bar someone had dropped, and I remember thinking that my life was nearly as monotonous and pathetic as theirs.  I sighed as I looked up from the ground.  Then it happened.  Like a charge of electricity running down my spine, I sat bolt upright as a man with a thin, muscular frame walked past me.  His unruly black hair blew wildly in the wind, and though I had never seen this person before, I knew it was him. 

Suddenly, he glanced back at me and smiled a devilish grin.  I returned the smile as my thoughts raced.  For the rest if the day I couldn’t help but think about him, replaying that moment again and again.  Those piercing, deep blue eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes would not leave my mind.

Days went by and I couldn’t get my mystery guy out of my head.  I rehearsed what I would say to him if I ever saw him again.  Most of all, I wondered who he was.

I determined one of two things about my mystery guy; either he didn’t eat, or he ate out a lot.  The more I thought about his firm physique, I knew he had to be getting regular meals.  A fleeting thought sent disappointment through me as I wondered if someone else shopped for him.  Then my eyes caught my wedding band as I ran a can of tuna over the scanner.  Instantly I was snapped back to reality.  Things had been rough with Ed for years, but he was my husband.

Over the next week and a half I thought of my mystery guy less and less, and I started thinking more about the ants on the candy bar.  In some ways I felt like the ants systematically spending every day in search of getting my basic needs met.  In other ways I felt more like the candy bar.  Tiny pieces of myself were being broken off, and carried away rendering me helpless.  Each piece taken was one bite closer to the center of my being.  Something deep within longed to reach down and shake off all the ants, but instead I was paralyzed with fear.  I would just lie there, letting the ants eat at my very soul.

I continued to scan the endless stream of groceries.  My eyes opened wide as I realized who was standing in front of me. 

“Do you have a pen?” he asked me in a smooth, sexy voice.

My heart began to race as I reached frantically in search of a pen.  I smiled and handed him mine.  I watched him write out the entire check.  The date etched itself into my mind, January 14, 1991.  My heart pounded in my throat as I thought, ‘I’m finally going to know his name.’  He tore the check from the checkbook and handed me his driver’s license.  Chase McCain.  Suddenly all the basic information I wanted to know was right in front of me.  Who he was.  Where he lived.  When his birthday was.  If he wore corrective lenses.  What his-- 

“Can I have your phone number please?” I squeaked, realizing that it wasn’t on the check.

With a gleam in his eye, Chase smiled at me.  “I’m not used to girls being so forward.”

My face instantly went red.  “I-- I need it for the check.  It’s not printed on it.”

With a continuing smile he gave me his number as I wrote it on the check.  No other names were listed on it, only Chase McCain.  A smile rose up on the inside of me that apparently came out on my face. 

“Now don’t go calling me all hours of the night,” he grinned.

I quickly handed him his receipt.  “Thank you, and have a great day,” I said with a nervous, phony smile. 

He didn’t leave.  He just stood there with an amused look on his face.  My pulse quickened as he continued to stand there.  My knees began to weaken.  ‘Why isn’t he moving?’ I thought.  Other customers began to fuss in line.