I have a thing for Doritos, specifically Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos. If you aren’t familiar, they’re in the purple bag. When I lived in Bed Stuy, I ate them at least once a week. Since the move to Washington Heights, I have probably had them twice in two years.
1. I got soft. I have laundry in my new building. In Bed Stuy I hung out in front of the laundry mat eating doritos while my clothes were washing.
2. There was no bodega in my immediate area of Washington Heights until this past winter.
I was craving Doritos last week, so I walked to Frank’s Market. They only had a giant bag of SSC Doritos and I can’t have a large bag in my house. Have a large bag = eat a large bag, so I bought some fancy chocolate and crossed the street to the new bodega. There was a man sitting outside on a bench. This seemed promising. Good bodegas have people hanging out in front of them. I approached the door and the man looked at me and got up from the bench. As I was pushing the door open, he was right behind me. He put his hand on the door over my head. A little weird, because he was totally in my personal space. I let the weirdness go, because maybe he was trying to help me open the door. (I don’t need help opening doors.) Who knows?
I found the SSC Doritos immediately, but I took a little time to inventory the rest of the store. Bodegas serve as the emergency supply line to the neighborhood and I wanted to know if this one was correct. Toilet paper, tampons, diapers and butter, it was all there. Satisfied, I walked towards the check-out line with my chips. I passed the man from the bench ordering falafel at the sandwich counter.
When I got to the check-out, the clerk was already ringing someone out. I stood a few steps behind and waited. The bench man finished ordering and walked towards the line. Then he stepped directly in front of me and put his butt in my face. The wale of his blue corduroys (it’s summer) was all I could see. I said “Really.” He didn’t move or acknowledge me. He must of been able to feel my breath on his backside. “Come on.” He shifted his weight to his left foot. I stepped from behind him and positioned myself right next to him. I looked up and said in a calm quiet voice “Did you mean to cut in front of me?” “Did you mean to go ahead of me?” He barely looked at me and said “Noooo.” His face turning red with embarrassment. “You didn’t see me there?” “Well I thought you were in line for a sandwich.”
He was the only one in the sandwich line and walked ten feet to get in the check out line. I answered “No” as I crossed in front of him. The clerk said “Hi Miss is that all for you today?”. I said “Yes, thank you.” The clerk rung me out and I walked back up the hill to my house eating Doritos. No word on whether the bench man enjoyed his falafel.