Post by Bindy Trent on Mar 30, 2017 21:23:38 GMT -5
A quart of milk in each hand, her eyes squinted, focusing on the printed numbers along the side. Bindy wondered why she hadn’t brought her glasses with her today, after all it wasn’t like she was dressed to impress anyone anyways. This trip to the organic grocers found her in a pair of oversized sweatpants and a t-shirt adorned with the AWE logo, her hair pinned to the back of her head in a haphazard bun. Of course the store was currently out of her favorite brand of flax seed milk, and now she was forced to try and find an acceptable substitute.
American Flax has more protein … but it’s unsweetened, she reasoned with herself, looking at the nutritional values of the first. But, The Flax Stone is sweetened, and is five fewer calories per serving but no protein. I don’t think that matters much, I get plenty of protein in chickpeas …
Two similar brands, both of which she was stuck between, one surely going to give her somewhat more issues than the other. While it would be easy to just make this a toss up and pick one or the other, when you were a professional athlete sometimes you had to break things down to their smallest components before making informed decisions. This was where she found herself on a Thursday afternoon. And people said that the life of a professional wrestler wasn’t exciting. Pfft. And maybe, just maybe, if you looked deep enough there was some sort of social commentary in Bindy’s decision over milk pertaining to her upcoming match against Tommy Stone and American Tommy. Maybe it was all some ingenious metaphor just waiting to be picked apart for analysis in college papers for years to come. But probably not.
Like Freud said, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. The agreeable voice in her mind chimed it. It was struggling to stay awake and interested though.
It was losing the battle as her eyes and brain glazed over at almost the same time. There was a mental fog rolling in, and the minutiae of milk alternatives weren’t of enough interest to break through it seemed. Her neurons were desperate for anything else to fire over, other than non-dairy products. She had no idea how long she’d been standing at the cooler section staring at the two different products when the bass of someone’s voice shook her thoughts loose out of her own world.
. . .
I’m not sure what decision you’re trying to make, but I’m sure it can’t be worth that much thought.
Standing several feet from her was a tall, young, handsome Hispanic man. Did we mention handsome? Because, … yeah. Bindy suddenly found herself regretting her decision to leave the house in such a ‘natural’ appearance. He flashed a row of pearly whites at her that she couldn’t help but return.
»BINDY«
I’m pretty deep in an internal debate about the pros and cons of flax milk. So, yeah … it’s definitely not worth this much thought.
The man glanced at the items in her hands, the look on his face revealing that he was completely unprepared to offer her any advice. He was probably as familiar with flax milk as he was with quantum mechanics. Reaching behind his head, he scratched at the back of his neck.
. . .
Aye, normally I’d just say chose one that’s chocolate. You’re an adult, you’re allowed to drink it whenever you want. Live a little right? Life ain’t worth living if you can’t enjoy it.
»BINDY«
That’s true. Normally I save the chocolate milk for Saturdays though, while I’m watching my cartoons though.
Was that an honest to goodness joke from Bindy? And it wasn’t even a bad pun. Bravo Bindster. She put the two quarts back inside the refrigerated display, in exchange picking herself up some chocolate (almond) milk. It was deposited in her basket next to a bottle of apple cider vinegar, a bundle of bananas, and some tempeh. It was exactly the sort of assortment of unappealing health foods you’d expect from her which was no longer shocking, but just expected.
. . .
Let me guess what’s your favorite? Smurfs?
He made her giggle, shaking her head in denial.
»BINDY«
Do they even play that anymore? I think you need to have a TV with rabbit ears to pick up the reception of it from 1983.
. . .
All right, you may have a point. I have to admit I don’t really know what they play Saturday morning’s anymore. Besides all the telenovelas reruns that my abuela loves.
»BINDY«
Well, I hope for your sake that the chocolate milk is a good choice. Otherwise I will be back here every weekend until I find you and make you pay for your milk suggestions.
His hands and arms went up in that gesture of innocence, and the implication of ‘No, not me!’ She gave her fellow shopper a small nod and then a pointed finger, letting him know she’d be watching. Turning on her heels, she started to head towards the check out stands. The man called out before she could get too far away.
. . .
Hey, any chance I can see you again? You know, besides you hunting me down here if you don’t like the milk?
»BINDY«
Yeah, Sunday. Look for me on TV after the cartoons and telenovelas are over. I bet your abuela will love me.
A questionably flirtatious wink punctuated her words. And with that she skipped right on and off.[/i][/i][/font]
American Flax has more protein … but it’s unsweetened, she reasoned with herself, looking at the nutritional values of the first. But, The Flax Stone is sweetened, and is five fewer calories per serving but no protein. I don’t think that matters much, I get plenty of protein in chickpeas …
Two similar brands, both of which she was stuck between, one surely going to give her somewhat more issues than the other. While it would be easy to just make this a toss up and pick one or the other, when you were a professional athlete sometimes you had to break things down to their smallest components before making informed decisions. This was where she found herself on a Thursday afternoon. And people said that the life of a professional wrestler wasn’t exciting. Pfft. And maybe, just maybe, if you looked deep enough there was some sort of social commentary in Bindy’s decision over milk pertaining to her upcoming match against Tommy Stone and American Tommy. Maybe it was all some ingenious metaphor just waiting to be picked apart for analysis in college papers for years to come. But probably not.
Like Freud said, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. The agreeable voice in her mind chimed it. It was struggling to stay awake and interested though.
It was losing the battle as her eyes and brain glazed over at almost the same time. There was a mental fog rolling in, and the minutiae of milk alternatives weren’t of enough interest to break through it seemed. Her neurons were desperate for anything else to fire over, other than non-dairy products. She had no idea how long she’d been standing at the cooler section staring at the two different products when the bass of someone’s voice shook her thoughts loose out of her own world.
. . .
I’m not sure what decision you’re trying to make, but I’m sure it can’t be worth that much thought.
Standing several feet from her was a tall, young, handsome Hispanic man. Did we mention handsome? Because, … yeah. Bindy suddenly found herself regretting her decision to leave the house in such a ‘natural’ appearance. He flashed a row of pearly whites at her that she couldn’t help but return.
»BINDY«
I’m pretty deep in an internal debate about the pros and cons of flax milk. So, yeah … it’s definitely not worth this much thought.
The man glanced at the items in her hands, the look on his face revealing that he was completely unprepared to offer her any advice. He was probably as familiar with flax milk as he was with quantum mechanics. Reaching behind his head, he scratched at the back of his neck.
. . .
Aye, normally I’d just say chose one that’s chocolate. You’re an adult, you’re allowed to drink it whenever you want. Live a little right? Life ain’t worth living if you can’t enjoy it.
»BINDY«
That’s true. Normally I save the chocolate milk for Saturdays though, while I’m watching my cartoons though.
Was that an honest to goodness joke from Bindy? And it wasn’t even a bad pun. Bravo Bindster. She put the two quarts back inside the refrigerated display, in exchange picking herself up some chocolate (almond) milk. It was deposited in her basket next to a bottle of apple cider vinegar, a bundle of bananas, and some tempeh. It was exactly the sort of assortment of unappealing health foods you’d expect from her which was no longer shocking, but just expected.
. . .
Let me guess what’s your favorite? Smurfs?
He made her giggle, shaking her head in denial.
»BINDY«
Do they even play that anymore? I think you need to have a TV with rabbit ears to pick up the reception of it from 1983.
. . .
All right, you may have a point. I have to admit I don’t really know what they play Saturday morning’s anymore. Besides all the telenovelas reruns that my abuela loves.
»BINDY«
Well, I hope for your sake that the chocolate milk is a good choice. Otherwise I will be back here every weekend until I find you and make you pay for your milk suggestions.
His hands and arms went up in that gesture of innocence, and the implication of ‘No, not me!’ She gave her fellow shopper a small nod and then a pointed finger, letting him know she’d be watching. Turning on her heels, she started to head towards the check out stands. The man called out before she could get too far away.
. . .
Hey, any chance I can see you again? You know, besides you hunting me down here if you don’t like the milk?
»BINDY«
Yeah, Sunday. Look for me on TV after the cartoons and telenovelas are over. I bet your abuela will love me.
A questionably flirtatious wink punctuated her words. And with that she skipped right on and off.[/i][/i][/font]