The Salutation

If, by any chance, someone desperately needed to know where Alfred was every Wednesday afternoon, that person could ask anyone. They could ask his brother, his parents, his friends. If none of them were available for whatever reason, that someone could even ask Alfred's dog, or that elderly man that lived in the apartment next door.

They would all say the same thing:

Every Wednesday afternoon, like clockwork, Alfred would go grocery shopping at the supermarket nearest his apartment. Of course, during the rest of the week he would sometimes stop by to grab some extra milk, or maybe a frozen pizza if he was craving it. But otherwise, every Wednesday he would write an entire list of what he needed for the week and spend his afternoon pushing a cart around, collecting food and crossing items off the list.

It was the same, every week.

Though not quite on the level of consistency the actual grocery shopping itself was, Alfred had something akin to a habit. He didn't know how it started, or even how often it happened, but it definitely did happen.

After he had acquired a cart (one that rolled well enough and hardly squeaked) he would go first to the fresh produce area and do his shopping. Sometimes he would feel a burst of spontaneity and pick up something that he hadn't specifically put on his list - lettuce, bell peppers, a bag of carrots. He'd feel proud of himself, getting healthy food, and continued on his mini journey through the grocery store.

However, the closer he got to checking out, the more he re-thought his idea of the healthy food item. Did he really need it? Would he actually eat it? Would it end up going to waste? He questioned himself more and more, but eventually ended up deciding against buying the food. It usually played out like that, with Alfred searching for an empty aisle space and leaving the item there for someone else to take care of.

He never really thought much of his little habit. Sure, he realized it was kind of rude to leave the item in the place it didn't belong, but he eventually rationalized to himself that the employees (hopefully) wouldn't mind one more item. It didn't really help that Alfred was just the tiniest bit lazy, and didn't think things all the way through. After all, he would have just finished an inner argument, there was no need for further questioning.

Eventually, Alfred's habit would get him into a little bit of a… pickle, so to speak.


Of course, the day his comfortable schedule for grocery shop was interrupted was one of the only days Alfred had a budget. A few days previous, his car broke down and needed major maintenance. Which, in turn, meant a big chunk of his paycheck would be re-routed to paying for his car repairs. He didn't get paid until the next month, and so, he grudgingly made a budget for the small necessities: gas, food, clothing, etc.

And that is how Alfred found himself staring longingly at the box of muffins in his hands. He had already gotten all of the food items he actually needed, and while walking towards the checkout area, added their prices up in his mind - the one time his incredible math skill actually came in handy. As much as he wanted the blue berry muffins, he couldn't afford them: they put his grand total a dollar above what he actually had, including tax.

Mournfully, he turned around and looked around the breakfast aisle he was in for an empty spot to leave the muffins. He shuffled over unhappily to the area he had noticed and slowly put down the box. As he turned to leave, a slip of paper caught his eye. It was taped to the shelf below where he had just deposited the box of muffins.

He took the note from its spot on the shelf and brought it closer to his eyes to inspect. Offhandedly, he noticed it smelled like pastries and tea, but what interested him more was that it was a printed letter, not handwritten. It was typed in an extremely serious font - something that would be used for angry letters or essays.

As it turned out, it actually was an angry letter, and it was addressed to him. At least, sort of.

"Dear person who keeps leaving food on different shelves,

You have left food in different places for months now! It is incredibly irritating and rude, and I have to take time out of my shopping to put the food back, because you were too lazy and too irresponsible!"

Alfred snorted, and thought to himself 'no one asked you to', but continued reading.

"I have taken it upon myself to hunt you down and scold you. Using my excellent detective skills, I have deduced - seeing as the food is always still there and had yet to be picked up by workers when I arrive - that you go to the grocery nearly every Wednesday, in the afternoon.

And from there, I formulated a plan. I typed this letter, and printed out several copies. Then, I arrived at our shared grocery on Wednesday, but instead of visiting the grocery in the evening as per usual, I went at lunch time, to be there before you. I then placed copies in different open spaces on different shelves that you've disposed of food previously. Of course, if there were multiple letters, there was a much better chance of you seeing it.

Now, you are reading this letter, are you not? Good.

Do not, ever again, leave food you are not buying in the aisles they do not belong, it is a hassle for everyone. Including me.

Cheers,

A pissed off Englishman"

Alfred wondered, for a split second, if people even said Cheers anymore, but his thoughts were ultimately jumbled, confused and amused. He un-taped the letter from the shelf and left to go check out.

As he entered the check out line labeled #4, he smiled flirtatiously at the girl who would be scanning his items. He piled all of his groceries from the cart onto the conveyor belt, and watched carefully as the price edged ever closer to his cash limit. Alfred complimented the shy girl, quickly paid and grabbed his groceries, saying his goodbyes.

Once outside, he frowned to himself, wondering what he should do about the letter currently stuffed into his pocket. Walking to his car, he loaded the groceries and a grin began to form on his face as he planned out his next move.

Even though Alfred knew that the entire situation really wasn't a big deal, he could be quite the stubborn mule. Plus, it could maybe be fun, if he played his cards right.

The author of the note better watch their back, because Alfred was coming for them.


The next week, on a Wednesday afternoon like always, Alfred strolled into the grocery store. He was more happy than usual, and he was excited to put his plan into effect. It was actually a solid idea, screw anyone who thought Alfred was an idiot.

He grabbed a cart, wincing at the squeaky noise it made, and made a beeline straight for the organic area. The area was filled to the brim with different types of fruit and vegetables, and it smelled really good. Coincidentally, that was also where he would find the items necessary for his plan. He went to the shelf containing the strawberries (what, he actually did eat fruit sometimes!) and eyed the different containers. Eventually, he picked one up that didn't have any bruised strawberries and seemed ripe enough for his tastes.

Pushing the cart along, he snatched a single banana and two potatoes and laid the items in his cart. Proud of himself, he continued his regular shopping, mentally checking items off his list until he came into the cereal/breakfast aisle. He picked up a box of Frosted Flakes, and quickly found an empty spot on a shelf that would be easily noticed. Digging around his cart, he brought out the banana and the potatoes to put them on the shelf, arranging them in a specific way.

They were arranged into a smiley face.

Stuffing his hand into his pocket, Alfred took out a handwritten note he had made specially for this. The note was even carefully written, so even a child could decipher his handwriting. He placed the slip of paper underneath a potato, and eyed his little creation in delight. It took all his self control not to laugh like a villain, there were too many people wandering around the aisle.

Turning back to his cart, he walked away nonchalant, and finished up his grocery shopping. As he thought about his note, he smiled to himself, filled to the brim with silly anticipation and a little bit of smugness.

"Dear pissed off Englishman,

It sounds like you're a little bit upset with me, why don't you relax and smile a little bit? :) :) I'm sure it'd look fantastic on you.

Over & Out,

That person that keeps leaving food on shelves

(or, seeing as it's much easier, you can just call me an amused American - look at that, I even matched your nickname, now we're totally official!)"