Oh, to be in love

Oh, to be in love. As it so often is, my first love was my strongest. An intense, passionate romance. It was a whirlwind, love at first sight. She was standing in the "10 items or less" checkout of our local bean wholesaler, wearing a denim jacket plastered tastefully in news, analysis, commentary, interviews, and special features, with segments that vary in length and style. Zara x NPR's "All Things Considered," Fall collection. Impeccable.

My eyes flitted up to the woman herself. I was stunned. Her hair was a deep burnt orange, like a sunset gently obscured by smog. Her lips were full and square, her eyes slightly oblong. Her cheekbones jutted out like two hapless tv antennas. I could've stared at her for hours, but only made it to about 90 seconds before she turned to me. The eye contact was electric. My body convulsed slightly. Her gaze blew through me like a radiation cloud. It was as if her deep, almost sickly green eyes were saying "hey cowboy" and "fuck I forgot the onions" all at once.

My mouth went dry. A part of me started to panic. "What do I do now?" I asked myself, "I've got to go over there. I'm confident, I'm suave. I'll just go over there and flirt with her. Maybe I could pay for her beans? As a kind of gesture? She'd love that, women always love that."

"What?" The cashier said, processing my 11th can of pinto beans. "What?" I replied. "You said something about buying someone beans?" the cashier said, testily. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, put that woman's beans on my tab. The one on checkout 14." I told him.

"Tab?"

"Put her beans on my tab."

"We don't have tabs"

"Ok smartass, then how am I going to pay for all these groceries?" I scoffed. Dumbass.

"Are you saying you can't pay for your groceries?"

"No, I'm saying you can put them on my tab."

"It doesn't work that way, you have to actually pay with money."

"I will, that's the whole idea"

"But you won't right now?"

"Yes. Exactly. Why is this so difficult?"

"Sir, I-"

The passion overtook me, I had to be with her. I scrambled over the 8 checkout lanes separating us and landed on my knees before her. She clutched her beans close as if to say "one day, these beans could be you."

"I can't stand to be without you" I told her, looking into her eyes which, in the eerie yellow light of the checkout counter sign, looked almost like little green beans themselves. There was a deafening pause. I questioned myself. Asked whether the eye contact was truly electric, or just static electric, the lamest kind. Had I simply rubbed my socks of love on her carpet of tantalizing wonder? Was this spark as fleeting as the one extending from finger to doorknob?

"I'm sorry. I can't be with you, not like this." She finally said. The tension was broken, but a maelstrom stirred inside of me. "But why, my love?" I pleaded

"I'm in the wrong aisle. You have like, 12 cans of beans."

"Damn the beans!" I exclaimed.

"Get out!" The cashiers yelled, almost in unison "Get out of here!"

My love looked to me, crestfallen. "Oh dear, now you've upset them."

Dear. The word rang out like artillery. Finally, a confession, a hint of her true feelings. The eye contact was regular electric. I leapt up. Was this it? The end? Is this how love dies? Not with a bang but a high-pitched whistle emanating involuntarily from my love's askew front teeth?

"Sir, you've got to go." The nearest cashier pressed. "Fine, damn you. Fine." I told them. Perhaps this was the end. A romance cut short. Burnt orange flames, extinguished. My head fell to my chest while my heart fell to my pelvis.

"Hey," I heard her whisper above me. I was transformed Oh sweet, sweet audio-nectar! My heart had been struck an infectious wound, one only her angelic voice could salve. "Did you say you'd pay for my beans?" she followed. "Yes! Yes! A thousand, a hundred thousand times yes!" I exclaimed. Luck! Joy!

"Ok, nice. These people don't do tabs for some reason." she said

"Oh my God, I know!" I replied

"What's up with that? What kind of bean place doesn't do tabs?"

"No idea. Doesn't even make sense."

"Sir you have to leave." said the cashier.

Just as it always is. Love facing off against meaningless bureaucracy. Was it not Chaucer who said "Let love not be without itself, let no executive agency or House select committee stand in its way." No, right? Even in the face of adversity, love must prevail. Love must always prevail.

"OK" I told them. "But if I go, my heart goes with me."

"Yeah, that follows." the cashier replied.

Damn. Undone at the final moment. Alas and alas again. A thousand alasses. But a hero's journey doesn't end at failure. Nor after several. It ends after a really bad, perhaps fatal failure.

As I slunk towards the door I looked to my love and spoke to her from a place deeper and more treacherous than even the most challenging spelunking expedition. "My love, perhaps in separation we find the piece of each other that exists within ourselves. For you are as much a part of me as I am you. And those parts are like welded steel, welded by a good welder, an expensive one. That is my love for you, and for me unto the part of me that is you, as well as you yourself, and the part of you that is me. Yes, my love, it is goodbye for now, but also hello to ourselves, because we are already, in a way, inside each other." As I finished the statement, I released a heavy sigh. I had given her all I could, shared with her all I had. Cupid's arrow had caused internal bleeding, and my valve's were rupturing, She said nothing, only stared. I didn't know what to feel. The automatic doors slid open. I was walking backwards, savoring the moments we had together.

By the time I reached the street, I had changed. I was not the same young adventurer I had been when I entered the store, in search of beans. But, as it so often does, one may begin their search with beans, but, with time, they end it clutching the ovular legume of romance.