My Friend at Target
Stephenie Freeman

I made a new friend today at Target while I was standing in line at the checkout.  My youngest and I had spent over an hour placing cleaning supplies, diapers, nail polish and new sunglasses into our cart and was pressing my luck with my son’s impending hunger.  Our pile of bargains was stacked up on the counter and I made small talk with the checkout lady.  After handing her a couple of coupons, I patiently waited with credit card in hand to pay. 

It was then that I noticed him.  He was headed my way holding an open magazine high in the air with a stiff arm.  His walk was awkward and I noticed that he was drawing attention from the people he passed by.

“See look Angie!”

 I quickly glanced at the name tag of my checkout lady.  It read Angela.

 “It’s a cave!”

 His speech was slurred and slow like a tape recorder whose batteries were wearing low.  His short hair was graying and his white undershirt and jeans needed a wash.  His big eyes looked innocent above his five o’clock shadow.   He must have been well over six feet as he stood next to me holding the magazine out for Angie to look at.

 “Yeah, Alan.  Sure is.”  Angie politely responded as she fretted over a reimbursement coupon for formula I had given her.

 “Tell her the name of my dog, Angie.”

 I smiled as he made eye contact with me for the first time. 

 “Tell me that’s a boy,” Alan asked me as he stole a quick glance at my son.  I assured him that it was with a grin. 

 “Oh, good…I have a dog…her name is Amy.” Alan seemed to be jumping from topic to topic just as quickly as my three year old.  “Have you ever been to a cave?” 

 This time Alan pointed at me as he asked the question.  He seemed to becoming more comfortable with me.  I told him I hadn’t. 

 “Well, I have…I’ve been to Carlsbad, Meremec, Mamouth, and Blanchard Springs I like Meremec…yeah, Meremec.”  Alan spoke in one long sentence (very Rain Man like) wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he finished.

 I smiled at Alan, telling him that that sounded like a lot of caves.  At this point, Angie our checkout lady, still struggling with imputing my coupons, had flipped on her checkout light for the manager.  She apologized to me and smiled politely.  I told her not to worry about it as a gingerly grinned at the lady standing behind me.  She must have been a coupon user too, because she smiled as if she understood the importance of a three dollar rebate coupon.  Alan stared at me with a look of concern.   

 “You need help…I can give you money and I wouldn’t want you to pay me back or food or anything…I just want your friendship.”

 I couldn’t help but smile as I told him no, but thank you.  As we continued to wait, Alan greeted each Target worker, calling them by their name.  To my pleasant surprise, each responded back to Alan with a smile and a kind hello.  The whole time Alan talked non-stop.  It wasn’t long before his attention was back to worrying about me.

 “You need money…I can give you money and I wouldn’t want you to pay me back or food or anything… I just want your friendship.  These people are my friends Angie is my friend.”

 Angie gave Alan a quick smile.  The manager finally arrived and helped Angie work out my coupon issues.  My son began to fuss a little.  I gently reassured him that we were about to leave. 

 Alan gently whispered, “My mom calls me Sweet Pea.”  He grinned as he said it. 

 I looked from Alan down to my tiny boy.  Many times had I called him that same nickname.  Many times had I looked at his big blue eyes and big bald head and thought how perfect he was, lovingly calling him Sweet Pea.  Looking at Alan, I quickly imagined his mother.  Probably well into her seventies still calling her son by the same affectionate name she gave him as a baby, not noticing his handicaps, only seeing his perfections. 

 Alan’s grin widened to a full smile as I told him that I called my baby that too.

 “Sorry about all that.  Have a great day.”  Angie gave me a wearied smile as she handed me my receipt.  I thanked her and apologized to the woman behind me for the delay as I started pushing my cart toward the door.

 “You need help…I’ll get the door for you…you want me to get the door for you?”

 I smiled at Alan as I told him that would be great.  As he did so, he informed the store that it wasn’t a “boyfriend/girlfriend thing” because I was married.

 “You are married aren’t you…good….because this is not a boyfriend/girlfriend thing…I wouldn’t want him mad at me…I just want his friendship.”

 Once outside, Alan waved at me and waved sweetly at my baby as he told us one last time, “My dog’s name is Amy…Amy and Alan,” and headed down the street. 

 A woman walking behind me said, “You’re a good woman.”   I shook my head, telling her it was no big deal.  We should all be kind and take the time to visit and get to know the “Alans” of the world.  After all, he doesn’t want to be paid back or given any food.  All he wants is your friendship.

Previous Posts:

Reruns & Action Figures
Pajama Time
Organizational Issues
Summer Freedoms
Excitement About the Small Things
The Lies We Parents Tell
Birthdays to Remember
Can You Hang Tinsel On A Recycling Bin?
Time Out For Dummies
I'm A June Clever Wannabe

To read more from Stephenie, visit her site!

Mama Wants More
A column for today's mother who has it all and still wants more because you're a mother, a wife, a citizen, a consumer. You're unappreciated, underpaid, and over qualified for wiping bottoms & cleaning toilets. But this was your dream. This is what you always wanted. you love your life, but you still want more . Me too.