Ice Cream and Pistachios

Ice Cream and Pistachios 
(630 words)
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It was a brisk fall afternoon when I decided I needed to drive down to the corner store to pick up some more chips and ice cream. I listened to the first two minuets of a Carrie Underwood song before pulling into the parking lot. I dragged myself out of the minivan, of which I had inherited from my dear old mother, that was one bad fender-bender from falling apart. A delightful puke green with a license plate reading "I LV DCK" in bold lettering. "I thought it meant I love duck!" My mother had explained when I showed my distaste for the vehicle. 
I mosied into the store, because you know, that's an accurate description of how I dragged my cold self into the glare of the harsh white florescent lights. I was hunting around in the freezing cold refrigerated aisle, searching for more ice cream. Maybe even some orange juice, just to shake things up. I finally found my ice cream, saw some orange juice, looked at at the price and decided to buy another tub of ice cream for the same price. While I was waiting in line at the check out, a woman with a long black ponytail, dark blue yoga pants and a red jacket. She looked almost too familiar, and it took me a second to comprehend why. Then it hit me.
She was my ex, as of three weeks ago.  Shit.
Oh crap she was making eye contact! Quick! What do I do!?
"Hey Greg! How are you?" She was peppy, oh god, how do I respond?
"Hey-Hey...Karen! Look at you!" I gestured to her running shoes and flushed face, my arms full of ice cream. "You look great. Really...So how are you?" In case you didn't notice there were a LOT of awkward pauses in that one sentence. She chuckled, readjusting her jacket on her slim shoulders. "I'm, out of breath." She laughed lightly, clearly not uncomfortable at all. That bitch, can't she see I'm shaking like a leaf? "I'm training for a marathon, since I've been on a juice fast for the past two weeks and I thought, hey why can't I run a marathon? You know?"
 I was astounded at how the rate of speed this woman talked. "So what have you been up too?" She asked, tilting her head to one side. I laughed and hugged the two tubs of ice cream in my arms closer to me as my brain fought to find something more interesting than sitting on the couch eating pistachios and ice cream while watching New Girl on repeat. "That's crazy because I'm training for the same marathon!" Why WHY WHY DID YOU TELL HER THAT!?!? My brain was screaming, trying to recover from my probably fatal mistake. "Really?" She said, placing her hand on her hip and raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Is that why you're buying two tubs of Rocky Road ice cream?"  I looked down in mock surprise at the now sort of melting tubs of dairy and sugary awesomeness. "Sir, are you going to pay?" A stooped over old man behind me grumbled. "I-I-I guess not!" I laughed as I marched back to the aisle and put the ice cream back, instead picking up a large carton of orange juice, full pulp. That had to be healthy...right!? "Oh, I didn't realize you liked pulp orange juice Greg! That kind has tons of sugar in it!"I chuckled dryly, starting to sweat as well as shake. I shouted "I was just kidding!" Marched back, grabbed the ice cream  that I originally had and scooped it up in my arms, plucked a chip bag from the shelves, and swaggered, yes swaggered, out the door.
And that my friends was the first and last time I robbed that store.
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-Jessica Baker-