DDR Day Returns
He looked at me, bewildered.
“Out of stock?”
He advanced towards me. I took a step backwards and bumped into the shelf. A box of granola bars fell to the floor. The quaker oats mascot stared up at me.
“What do you mean ‘out of stock’?” he said, his voice rising.
“I mean there aren’t any left,” I said.
“How can there not be any pop tarts left?”
I sized him up before cautiously explaining the arithmetic involved. His face contorted in discomfort as the math tried to infiltrate the impenetrable folds of his brain matter. The effort evaporated as his thoughts coalesced around the perfect nucleation site.
“But you have more in the back, right?” he said. There was a hopeful spark in his eyes. Poor guy. Poor, poor guy.
“We haven’t stocked pop tarts here since 2021,” I said. “Some kind of dispute with Kellogg’s.”
He snapped to attention at that. Any doubts I had about his numerical literacy disappeared; curiosity rose in its place.
“Since… when?” he asked.
“2021,” I repeated.
“What–” he swallowed hard and took a moment to shift his weight, “What is today’s date?”
“October 24th, 2024,” I said.
“I thought… I thought…” he trailed off. He didn’t speak for several seconds. The silence grew uncomfortable.
“Do–” I started. He interrupted me immediately.
“Weekday?” he said
“Pardon?”
“What day of the week is it?” The hopeful spark had returned to his face.
“Thursday,” I said.
“Fuck. Yes,” he said. He immediately turned away from me and started walking towards the exit. A quart of ice cream sat in his abandoned shopping cart. Condensation gathered on its suface.
“Uhhh… sir?” I called after him. He didn’t turn. “Sir!” I repeated, louder.
“Can’t talk, DDR starts soon,” he said.
At the Insanity Complex
100 Skate Park Dr
Madison, AL