“Wait!” I said. “Can you add a cookie?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Just one?”
I thought about it. They looked so soft and delicious. And I was going to have some friends over later…
“Give me three,” I said. But then, what if there wasn’t enough for everyone? “No, make it six.” And what if people wanted a second cookie? “Okay, eight, actually. Give me eight cookies.”
He started fishing them out of the jar, eyebrows only slightly raised, when suddenly, the air changed, and I realized that Anne Hathaway was standing directly behind me.
This was the line: me, Anne Hathaway, her fiance. In this tiny store. She was like six inches away from me.
The guy got cookie after cookie out of the jar. It took a while, because the neck of the jar was narrow. I could feel Anne Hathaway standing there, being stunningly beautiful and somehow heartbreakingly delicate behind me.
The guy went to ring up my cookies, but then he realized that the order had already been complete, so he had to redo it or something. And then the act of attempting to redo it caused the computer to stall, and he got frustrated and awkward, perhaps aware of Anne Hathaway, and started typing things really vigorously and angrily. “This is so weird,” he said. “It’s totally shutting down.”
And then Anne Hathaway and her fiancé and I stood there for a long, long time, as the guy wrestled with the computer that had been broken by my need for many cookies. The fiancé put some of their groceries on the counter. I guess he was tired of holding them. They weren’t getting much. Most of it seemed to be kale. There was definitely no bacon or cheese. There was definitely, definitely no cookies.
It was deadly silent, except for the protesting noises from the computer.
After an eternity had passed, I had started trying to joke around with the guy behind the counter to prove that I was either so cool that I could joke around in the presence of a movie star or that I hadn’t even noticed Anne Hathaway this whole time and she had put her sunglasses up mistakenly. Take that, Anne Hathaway, I thought. As far as you know, I didn’t even notice you!
“Technology never wants to get along with people,” I said. “It’s like it’s just plotting against us. Until eventually robots just take over the world. Led by this computer, probably.”
I am funny.
And then the computer was fixed and I managed to pay without dropping my credit card or eating everything in sight and I quickly left the store, wondering why I’d worn such a lame outfit to the grocery store that day. SUCH a lame outfit.
And I felt sort of bitter, because really, I wasn’t trying to make Anne Hathaway uncomfortable in any way. I was just admiring her really short hair.
But after I ate a cookie I felt a lot better about the whole incident. So I ate another, too.
Kate’s blog, Eat the Damn Cake, is 8 cookies worth of fun and won’t crash your computer.