P.B.& J.
By James Stevahn
Copyright 2018
So I’m sitting around playing XBox on a Saturday afternoon and I realize I’m hungry, but for what? You know when was the last time I had a PB&J.? I mean, it’s quick and easy, any fool can simply make one. So I pause my game and go to the kitchen. Because I’m single, nothing in this kitchen is organized, so I start the search.
Looking first, on top of the fridge, I spot the bread. “Sweet!” I say to myself. A half loaf, now I can make several pb&j’s. I open the bread sack, “HOLY COW!!” Is bread suppose to be that many shades of green? So I throw the bread away. Not to be stopped I go searching for the peanut butter and jelly.
There we go, I found the peanut butter jar in the cupboard next to the plates. Makes sense, right? To make a couple of pb&j’s and you’ll need a plate, so I open the jar “SHXT!” Empty! Still craving a pb&j and sensing a pattern, I give up even looking for the jelly, grab the truck keys, and head out the door.
By this time, I’m pretty irritated. It’s a Saturday afternoon and I have to go shopping. Luckily the grocery store is only six blocks away. I pull into the parking lot and to my disbelief its almost full.
“Why would anybody with sense go shopping on a weekend anyways?” Then I realize, it’s the weekend and I’m in this parking lot ready to go shopping. I find one of the few empty spots left, which happen to be about as far as can be and still be in the parking lot.
Finally reaching the front door, I look around.
“If I was peanut butter, jelly, and bread, where would I be?” Realizing I’m way out of my element, I decide to start at one end of the store and work my way across. The first aisle is medication, hygiene items and such. “Damn,” Maybe I should have started on the other end. Rounding the second aisle, I see paper plates, disposable turkey pans, plastic silverware, and cups. You know the aisle. Cursing under my breath, I enter the third aisle. It’s beverages. By this time, I tell myself, “if this aisle has any beer, i’m getting a sixer”. I reach the end of the aisle, and no beer. I go around the fourth aisle, which, of course, doesn’t have peanut butter, jelly, bread, or beer, but baking mixes and spices. “For the love of GOD!” Where is the damn peanut butter, jelly and bread at? I see at the end of the aisle is my savior, ok he’s only a stock clerk, but he has to know where stuff is at. Right? I practically run to him.
“Excuse me sir, I have a question. ” He looks up from his alignment of the Betty Crocker mixes.
“Yes Sir. How may I help you?”
“Could you direct me to the peanut butter, jelly, and bread aisle?”
The smirk on his face tells me he was thinking what I feel like right now, an idiot.
“The peanut butter and jelly products are on aisle seventeen and the bread is on aisle twenty five. Just follow the signs,” He points up. I look and thought, “man when did they get those?”
“Thanks,” I reply as I take off looking at the signs for aisles 17 and 25. When I finally reach the first aisle, my mouth dropped. How many brands of peanut butter and jelly products could there possibly be? Six shelving units on my right had peanut butter, I scan the shelves,” which one do I choose?” I say to myself. Scanning the labels, I recognize the brand JIF. Choosy mothers choose JIF, right? Well my mom was choosy alright, and strict, and bossy, and naggy, and……anyways, I grab the big family sized jar. I am a family of one. So I qualify.
Ok, now the jelly. I turn around. Ok, lets see, there’s apple butter, grape, apricott…. Damn this shouldn’t be that hard. Hey, wait! There is a jar of Smuckers grape jelly. I remember the commercials for Smuckers. They had those cute kids telling you how good Smuckers was. Those cute little kids wouldn’t lie to me. I grab a jar of Smuckers and head for aisle 25.
“NOT AGAIN!!” I say out loud. I’m standing at the end of the bread aisle. What is with this place, all these selections. There is 12 kinds of white bread, 8 of wheat, 3 pumpernickel (what is that). Some with enriched flour, some not. “Man, all I want is a damn pb&j”. So, I do what any red blooded man would do and I grab the cheapest brand, and head for the check out.
I get to the front and scan the twenty thousand check out counters for the shortest line. To my delight, there is a cute redhead on aisle 3. I get in line and wait. We make eye contact. She does a double take and smiles. I hope it is at me, but I don’t want to turn around to see. I can’t take my eyes off her. She has red flowing hair, blue eyes, so blue, they’re almost neon. Her pert lips are a light shade of pink. Her smock covers most of her body, but when she stand sideways to put the stuff in the bags, her smock gets tight and shows off her curves which seem to be in all the right places for me.
Finally, it’s my turn. She says, “hello” and I mumble something. She giggles and rings up my purchases. Then ask if there is anything else I want? Without thinking, I say your phone number is all I need. Again, she giggles and says I’m kind of forward. I remain silent and turn red.
I hear a few sighs from behind me and see about ten people waiting in line behind me. The beautiful redhead puts everything in the sack, including the receipt, thanks me for stopping, and says she hopes I shop here again. I say ok, bye bye. She giggles, again. I grab my bag and walk to the truck.
“You dope,” I chastise. “Is that the best you can do? Ok, bye bye? What a doofus.”
Halfway to my truck it starts to rain so I speed up my pace. I started getting soaked by the time I got to my truck and fumbled for the keys. I juggled the now wet paper bag in one hand. The peanut butter falls through the bag followed by the bread and jelly. I catch the jelly. Thankfully, the peanut butter is in a plastic jar. I grab the keys and unlock the door . I grab the bread and toss it in the truck and of course it lands on the floor board. Next, I grab the peanut butter and toss it and the jelly on the seat. By now, I’m madder than hell, as they say, I start the truck and head for home. Coming up to my turn, I slow down to make it. This causes the peanut butter and jelly jars to roll around in the seat. Before I could grab them, the peanut butter fell onto the floorboard.
“GOD,” I shouted. “What have I done. All I wanted was a pb&j and to play a game.” While turning into my parking lot, the jelly decides to join the peanut butter and just like before the bread breaks its fall. Finally, I make it into my spot. I grab the peanut butter, jelly, smashed loaf of bread , and the wet torn paper sack and stomp up three flights to my apartment.
I toss everything on the counter except the wet sack which I three point shoot the sack at the trash can. Of course, I miss, that’s why I’m not a professional basketball player. I open the peanut butter jar, then the bread, or at least what’s left of it, and a knife. I spread an ungodly amount of peanut butter on the bread, then proceed to put on an equal amount of jelly on it, and smash the already smashed pieces of bread together. Turning towards the living room, I grab the wet sack to throw it away and I notice the receipt as I grab the sack to deposit in the trash. On the back of it, that I can see in pink, is a phone number and a smiley face. “I DID IT! You stud you, you still got it.” I grab my cell and dial my dream girl’s number and I take a bite of the stickiest peanut butter and jelly sandwich ever. Without a ring, she answers with a hello. With a mouthful of pb&j stuck in my mouth, I say, “Em tho gouy tha peanut and jelly.”
All I hear is “JERK” then the dial tone. No, no, no, I hang up the phone. I saw the girl of my dreams, got her number, and because of my impatient hunger, she’s gone.
Beneath The Surface Publishing 