An Embarrassing Occurrence

Before I begin, you didn’t think I’ve given up on my Post-a-Week project, did you? Tell you what, I haven’t (yet, at least). And before you say anything, the name of the project is Post-a-Week, not Post-Every-7-Days so if I posted my last post on Monday last week and post this on Sunday (which is today here) this week, I’m still posting once a week.

Has it ever happened to you that when you buy something in a store with a large note, when you’re about toleave the store you take the change the clerk gave you, but you accidentally leave the very thing that you bought lying on the cashier desk?

Well, unfortunately for me, it happened today when I went to this book market (a flea market but it sold books) to buy some books for college. The sun wasn’t too friendly then—its heat was unbearably torturing, even though I had already adjusted my car’s air-con to the maximum possible coldness. So on the way, I decided to stop by a convenience store to grab something cold to drink and cool me down. I walked into the store and I immediately went into the cold drinks shelves to grab a can of cold coffee.

I then put the coffee can on the cashier desk to check out, and one of the clerk (there were two of them) mentioned the price. I paid for it with a larger note, and he gave me the change. I said, “Thank you!” with a confident smile, and pocketed the change.

And then I walked out the store without taking the freaking coffee can with me.

I almost reached the exit when the clerk shouted, “Your coffee, sir!”. I awkwardly walked back to the cashier desk with a forced smile sculpted on my face, pretending to laugh it off, took the coffee can, and said the stupidest “thank you” I’ve ever said. I went out without ever looking at the clerks’ faces again (because I was sure I heard one of them (or was it both of them?) titter).

I went into my car and left the vicinity—I’m pretty sure I left tomato red-faced while thinking “I swear I’ll never visit that store for the rest of my life again” along the rest of my way to the book market.

The worst part is that I can’t seem to forget that mortifying incident. Why the hell do the last things that you want to remember appear even clearer and clearer the more you try to forget them?

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