Munden stood glued to the laminate tile in aisle 9 for several minutes after Martha had left. He did not notice that he was doing this until a shopping cart crashed into left leg. This jolted Munden into action, and muttering apologies, Munden made his way out of aisle 9 and toward the check-out registers. As he walked, his calf began to cramp at the site that was hit by the shopping cart.
Munden limped out of the store and toward his car when it began to rain hard. By the time Munden had crossed the parking lot and arrived at his car, his shirt was soaked through and water was sloshing out the sides of his brown loafers. The outline of his pocket-sized calculator was visible in his shirt’s breast pocket. Munden fondled the device subconsciously, noting to himself that the device was likely permanently damaged from the water. While Munden was fumbling in his pockets for his car keys, he noticed a small, round figure two parking spots back screaming and kicking the side of a car. The figure seemed somewhat familiar to Munden, but he didn’t know why. As the wind shifted Munden caught bits and pieces of what the figure was yelling at the side of the car. The voice too sounded strangely familiar, but Munden could still not place it. Munden stood there, staring at the strange little figure and thinking hard, when the figure suddenly turned towards him and he saw those haunting green eyes from aisle 9. Recognizing Munden, the round little figure made her way over to him.
“Hi again” Martha said. “I seem to have locked my keys in the car. Can you give me a ride? I have a spare set on my night stand at home.”
“S-s-sure.” Munden choked out, as he fervently began looking for his keys. He shoved his sweaty hand first in his right pants pocket. His fingers easily extended to the bottom of the pocket, but all he felt were a few loose coins and lint balls. He giggled nervously as he shoved his hand into his left pants pocket. Again, all he felt were a few coins and some lint. No keys. He giggled nervously again and took a swig of Mylanta. “Haha, must be in the b-b-back pocket.” But unfortunately for Munden, neither back pocket contained car keys.
“I s-s-s-seem to have lost my keys as well.” Munden choked out, in between swigs of Mylanta.
“Oh well, I guess we will have to wait for the bus. The bus stops right on the corner of my street, but I hate riding it alone. Although, if you would ride with me, it would feel like an adventure rather than a chore, and my mom can drive you back to your house if you want?” Martha said.
“You l-l-l-live with your mom?” Munden asked.
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” Martha asked.
“N-n-n-no.” Munden took another swig of Mylanta.
“Good.” And with that, Martha turned and began walking toward the covered bus stop. Munden followed a safe distance behind.
The plastic covering offered decent protection against the down-pour, but conversation was out of the question due to the noise the rain made when it came into contact with the plastic awning. Martha sat down on the bench and Munden sat down next to her. Marth’'s voluptuous figure took up most of the narrow bench so when Munden sat down his shoulder, hip, and knee came into contact with Martha’s body. Munden felt nervous and waited for Martha to jump up in disgust and go running from the bus stop. But Martha did not do this. To Munden’s surprise, she seemed to like the contact. And so they sat, in comfortable silence, waiting on the bus, shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee listening to the rain on the plastic awning.
This was Munden and Martha’s first date and in Munden’s estimation, their best date.
