He parked his car in an area of the lot where he would be able to see both entrances and exits to and from the store, as well as the entire parking lot. With the exception of using the bathroom and eating, Travis spent the entire day in his car watching the store. When he did need to use the bathroom, he went in the store and picked up something to eat at the same time. Before he left the store, Travis quickly checked every aisle. At the end of day one, he hadn’t seen her.
Day two was no different from day one. Travis spent the day watching and waiting in vain. The pattern continued for the remainder of the week. He sat there all day and she didn’t show.
When week two began, Travis took a whole new attitude. He began to pay attention to his surroundings. He took pictures of and made notes on all the people, employees and customers, who came and went on a regular basis. He noted the delivery days and times, who was the driver, and what he was delivering. He would take short drives around the neighborhood, checking streets and traffic flow.
Travis started spending more time inside the store, getting a feel for the layout. He even knew the armed truck schedule, and had developed a profile on the drivers. At first he told himself that all these things were just to keep him busy, to keep his mind sharp for the next job. How else would a planner sharpen his planning skills? You practice planning.
By the time Friday of week two had come and gone without the woman’s return, Travis had just about given up on her. But if Travis was nothing else, he was persistent. He decided to give it one more week.
It was Saturday evening at 7:34 p.m. when his persistence paid off. A red 1999 Honda Civic pulled into the crowded lot and turned down the aisle where Travis had positioned himself. After two weeks of near misses, Travis wasn’t the least bit excited when yet another woman who fit the profile drove by his position.
She parked her car almost directly in front of Travis and stepped out. She wore a black suit with a yellow blouse; she came around the car and walked right by Travis. As she passed, it appeared that she looked directly at Travis and said pleasure me. He knew he was trippin’, but he gave her a ten-second count before getting out of his car and going in after her.
Travis entered the store, grabbed a shopping cart, and looked around. He spotted her in the produce aisle. He approached slowly, watching and waiting for what he considered the perfect opportunity to move on her. He began placing items in his shopping cart from whatever aisle she went down, to keep up appearances. In the last two weeks, he had bought enough stuff to last a month at his house, and had begun to give the stuff he’d bought to Jackie and Ronnie.
As she continued to shop, Travis kept her in sight, never allowing more than one aisle’s distance between them. When she stopped at the magazine aisle, Travis made his move. He approached and posted up next to her as she flipped through the latest copy of Essence. Travis picked up a copy of Black Enterprise and began to flip pages as well. “Excuse me,” Travis said. She turned to face him.
“Yes?”
All of a sudden, a cold chill ran through his body. Here he was, finally standing face to face with the woman he had been fiendin’ for these last two weeks, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. He briefly considered the direct approach: Look, ever since you rammed your shopping cart into me two weeks ago, I’ve thought about nothing but you. Each time I close my eyes I see your face and I dream sweet dreams of you each night when I sleep. The sound of your voice echoes in my ears all the time. So please, tell me, what’s your name?
Instead, he said, “I thought that was you.”
“I beg your pardon?” she said, looking very curiously at Travis.
“I guess you don’t remember me. I was the one that you accidentally ran into with your shopping cart a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh, was that you?” the woman asked, thinking that Travis was kind of cute. “I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going,”
“No, you were reading the label on a box of Special K,” Travis said. He laughed as he pointed to the box of Special K she had in her cart.
“Yeah.” She laughed too. “I always read the nutrition facts on everything that I buy.”
“Nutrition facts?” Travis asked.
“You’ve never read the nutrition facts on the things you buy?”
“I’m ashamed to say it, but no, I don’t,” Travis said and dropped his eyes in mock shame. Inside, he was glowing.
“On the label of just about any kind of packaged food that you buy, there are nutrition facts,” she said. “It gives you information that you need to know about the foods that you eat.” She put her magazine back on the rack and reached into his shopping cart then stepped next to Travis. His heart began to pound.
She pointed to the nutrition facts on the package of frozen corn on the cob. “Look at the label on that package. It tells you that this corn has only ninety calories and that five of those calories came from fat. There’s only one gram of total fat. It has no saturated fat or sodium. Now look at that box of mac and cheese. Look at both packages and compare the two.”
“Two hundred and sixty calories and four hundred if I use margarine and two-percent milk,” Travis said.
“And who doesn’t put margarine and milk in their mac and cheese?”
“Nobody.”
“Now check out the amount of sodium it has, and compare it to the corn,” she instructed.
Travis did as he was told. At this point, he would have hopped on one leg and barked like a dog if she said wanted to see it. “The corn has no sodium, and wow! This mac and cheese has seven hundred twenty milligrams. That’s a big difference.”
“And it is so much more sodium than we black people, who are already prone to high blood pressure, need in our diets. So, we should really watch the amount of sodium in the foods we buy and the amount of salt we pour on it.”
“But you know black people can’t live without mac-n-cheese,” Travis said playfully.
“True that, true that.” She nodded in agreement and smiled. “’Cause I love it too. But we shouldn’t eat it all the time.”
“Well, if that’s the case, half of what we call soul food ain’t all that healthy for us either.”
“I know that’s right, ’cause when I go to my aunt’s house for Sunday dinner or on Thanksgiving and Christmas, there I am eating everything in sight, gettin’ fat on my way back in the kitchen for a second plate. But I sure pay for it the next week.”
“I don’t know. You look pretty healthy to me.”
“I try to eat right, you know, get a little exercise. You look like you’re in pretty good shape,” she said, peering in his cart. “Most of what you have is pretty healthy. Plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables.”
“Thank you,” Travis said, glad that he only picked up items in the aisles she went down. “By the way, my name is Travis. Travis Burns,” he said and extended his hand.
“Me’shelle Lawrence,” she said, accepting his hand.
“Well, Ms. Lawrence, it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“The pleasure is mutual, Mr. Burns,” Me’shelle said graciously.
“And thank you for the nutrition lesson.”
“Not a problem. Everybody needs to be educated on some things sometimes. It’s what I do.”
“So, when you brutally attacked my ankle, what were you looking at?”
“The dietary fiber contents,” Me’shelle said. “Always choose my cereal based on the amount of dietary fiber it has.”
“Is that important?”
“Very,” Me’shelle replied, thinking the reason why it was important was a little too much information for her to be giving for the purposes of that conversation.