Eleven Dollhairs.
Was it always this way, NYC?
“It’s how much?”
I leaned into the cashier and said this very loudly.
“11.67?” Her response was more of a question. Not a statement. We both held head tilts of confusion, eyes locked. “Too much?” She asked, her voice noticeably higher.
“No, no!” My voice also pitched up, as I shook my head vehemently. “No. I just-for this amount of stuff —“ I trailed off before ending with, “It’s like 1996 in here. I love it!”
I bopped out of the store with far more enthusiasm than I’d had upon my entrance just minutes before. I glanced at everyone outside picking their fruits and veggies from the displays and smiled at them. They were also going to pay prices from a long time ago in New York! How exciting! They probably knew this already. Realizing that fact, I didn’t do what I wanted to do - walk by everyone and whisper creepily into their ears, “it’s so affordable. ooohhh.”
I thought about showing people my receipt, but that would involve shaking it in their faces and exclaiming, “Look! Look! The ginger was TWELVE CENTS! YOU MUST GO GET SOME GINGER!” Then I would ramble away down the street like a muppet in a great mood. Limbs going every which way. I didn’t perform that unhinged interaction either, but I did tell two friends about my grocery enjoyment.