Spanish Onions

 

Spanish Onions

 

 

 

I was in the check out line at the grocery store today. I had my groceries all placed on the conveyor belt when the cashier picked up one of my items and held it up to me.

 

"What's this?" he asked.

 

I looked at it and said,

 

"It's an onion."

 

Can't fool me.

 

"Oh." he said and looked back at the cash register. He was poking buttons and looking concerned.

 

"Is it a Sweet Onion?" he asked.

 

"I don't know," I said, "I didn't taste it."

 

I got the feeling that he was building up to something.

 

"OK." he looked back at the cash register.

 

That last question had me a little concerned. If I remembered right Sweet Onions were expensive.

 

"Is it a Spanish Onion?" he asked.

 

Spanish Onion sounded cheaper so I said,

 

"Yah."

 

I tried to act like I knew that all along.

 

"OK." he said and went back to poking buttons.

 

"What the heck," I tried to laugh, "Everything else in Miami is Spanish. I guess the onions can be Spanish too huh?"

 

"Yah," he said. But he was all cash register now. I was a distant memory.

 

I watched him fiddling with the buttons for a moment or two. Then, I don't know why but I guess I just felt like talking.

 

"Have you ever eaten an onion like an apple?" I asked him.

 

He didn't look up but he did make a little sound with his throat. I took that as somewhat of an answer.

 

"You have to get them nice and cold first." I explained. "In the refrigerator."

 

He continued to poke buttons and furled his eye brows.

 

"It has to be a juicy onion though."

 

I guess he didn't feel like talking.

 

"The purple onions are my favorite." I added.

 

After a while he finished swiping my items and then he looked up at me and smiled.

 

That put me on guard.

 

"Would you like an 'Easter Dollar', Sir?" he asked me. I guess we were friends now.

 

"Er.. What is an 'Easter Dollar'?" I asked.

 

"OK," he got down to business, "You give me two fifty." he explained gesturing with his hands, "and then a dollar fifty goes to the Cancer Research fund," he paused for a second so I could keep up, "and then.. you get back an ‘Easter Dollar’."

 

He looked straight at me and smiled like presto!

 

I still didn't know what an "Easter Dollar" was but somehow it seemed to me that a Real Dollar got lost somewhere in that transaction.

 

And something told me that was what he was smiling about.

 

"Gee," I said, formulating my words with care. "Maybe I'll do that tomorrow."

 

His smile melted.

 

"Let me think about it overnight." I added.

 

"OK," he said and got back to the cash register.

 

I guess our friendship was over.

 

He rang up the total and I slid my debit card. Cash back? It asked.  Nah, it just goes for soft serve ice cream cones and I can live without that.  I pressed "enter".

 

We both stood there ignoring each other for a few moments waiting for the grocery store's computer to talk to the bank's computer.  Then I heard the cash register begin to print out and I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

The bagger put all my items in plastic bags and handed them to me. He looked sullen.

 

I took the bags.

 

I stepped out into the little village of Surfside, Florida.

 

I walked down the sidewalk with my two bags of groceries hanging down at my sides. There was a steak in one of those bags that I had plans for.  Nice.

 

The anticipation of dinner warmed me and I smiled at strangers just to surprise them.

 

I managed to pass by the pastry shop and continue walking.

 

The ice cream parlor exerted its magnetic effect on me but hey,

 

I didn't have any cash.

 

 

Miami 2009