I relate to The Checkouts. I think I relate to this story because one of my closest friends experienced this and I heard it many times. She went to college and never came back. I haven’t heard from her since. This story made me remember her because she fell in love with him without even talking to him. Just like the girl in the story did. “Then one day the bag boy dropped her jar of mayonnaise and that is how she fell in love.” Although she never talked to him, she still liked him and she said she would always look for him every time she went to get gas for her car, but he was never there. She told me she crossed paths with him again at the ice arena when he was on another date. Of course, my friend was upset that he was with a new …show more content…
It all started when she moved here. She told me she didn’t want to move, but her parents didn’t care. They said they were moving because of a job oppurtunity, end of story. This is similar to the girl in the story who was forced to move to Cincinnati. “Her parents had moved her to Cincinnati, to a large house with beveled glass windows and several porches and the history her mother liked to emphasize. You’ll love the house, they said. You’ll be lonely at first, they admitted, but your so nice you’ll make friends fast. And as an impulse tore at her to lie on the floor, to hold to their ankles and tell them she felt she was dying, to offer anything, anything at all, so they might allow her to finish growing up in the town of her childhood, they formed their mouths and spoke from their chests and they said, It’s decided.” My friend moved to here for a temporary job movement. We became pretty good friends. She is older than …show more content…
This is similar to when the girl, who loved to grocery shop, went into the bag boy’s checkout lane. “He was nervous--first day on the job--and along had come this fascinating girl, standing in the checkout line with the unfocused stare one often sees in young children, her face turned enough away that he might take several full looks at her as he packed sturdy bags full of food and the goods of modern life.” When the car left, my friend, Jill, pulled into the spot and told the gas attendant she wanted to pay twenty dollars. He stared at her for a while and eventually said a weak, “okay.” Jill looked at his name tag. His name was Brian. He started to fill her car with gas and clean her windows as she asked for it. When he was finished, he pulled the pump handle out and gave her a wink as she began to laugh. He eventually realized that the gas was coming out and spilled on the concrete and his shoes. He felt so embarrassed. This is similar to when the bag boy was