Sooner Or Later

Eventually, everything becomes kitsch...

I'd seen the Original Grocers' Supermarkets around, but had never been in one. But now I needed some drinks for the party, and this place was the closest to the house, so in I went.

Just inside the doorway was a slim, heavily made-up young woman with long brown hair and a slightly orange fake tan. All she was wearing from the waist up was a brightly colored, and obviously padded, bikini top. Her faded blue jeans were at least two sizes too large and too long for her frame, and were cinched tight low around her hips with a broad leather belt, so that a good portion of her bikini bottoms were visible. To keep herself from tripping over the ends, she'd folded them into wide cuffs at the bottom, from under which her athletic shoes poked. A chain was clipped to one of the belt-loops and draped down to nearly her knees before swinging back up to disappear into a pocket, from which protruded a remarkably bright green-and-white bandana.

Behind her, a sullen-looking young man pushed a line of shopping carts into the corral. The sleeve of his dark hoodie had "Original" emblazoned on it in calligraphy so ornate that it took me a moment to realize what it said.

There was a display of chips and salsa off to one side. The advertising placard was designed to look like asphalt, and the prices were prominently displayed within chalk outlines on the right-hand side.

"Yo, Dog!"  the Greeter chimed, cheerfully, as I walked through the entryway, "Welcome to OG's, where we have the illest prices in town! My name's K-Ho. What can we help you ‘jack today?"

It was only then that I noticed that part of the garish pattern of her skimpy top was actually a name tape, with "Kaitlyn" printed on it.

In the back of my mind, I could just hear my grandfather chuckling.