Allie waited in the car while I ducked into the Walgreens to pick something up real quick. The line was long when I walked in, and it hadn't appeared to have moved by the time I'd snatched up my goods and took my place at the end of it.
But just then a woman took her place behind the photo counter and said, "I can help whoever's next." And I was right there; just two steps away. That never happens to me. I always intuitively pick the slowest line.
As I placed my stuff on the counter, I noticed a man approaching with a scowl. He'd gotten there before me, so I'd basically stolen his place. He was a tough looking black guy, with a nylon skull cap. He was big, and I think he might have had a gold tooth or two.
Rationally, I didn't think he would hurt me. But a nexus of white-man fear nexus in the inner core of my reptilian brain stem went into alert. I dared not look him in the eye.
The clerk took my money and handed me my change. As I scooped up my goods, I watched him set his items down. First, with an emphatic clunk, a tall can of high-energy drink. Then, with a quiet slide, a box of tampons.