Chapter 2
There was a little corner store in Sue's city. She could walk there in 10 minutes. It's how she started drinking.
She was still young enough where she could eat trash without having to pay for it. Nobody truly appreciate this until it's gone. She got sour cream and onion chips, cheddar crackers, two bars of dark chocolate, and a loaf of bread bleached to the color of copier paper. She drifted into the checkout line but then saw a bottle of clear liquid. The letters were clearly not English. She thought it was maybe Polish or maybe Russian. The words didn't matter. Even little kids around here knew that was vodka.
It looked so much like water. But then lots of things looked clear besides water.
"I wonder what it tastes like. Well, it's no use. He'll ask for my ID and see I'm too young," she thought.
She tried to think about something else and looked around. There was a slushie machine churning a neon-red liquid. There was a big shelf behind the register with tons of different kinds of cigarettes, cigars, and vape pens.
Suddenly, a crazy idea came to her. It was risky but she was really curious about the vodka.
First, she tried to put the bottle in the middle of her items, hoping the cashier wouldn't notice. That didn't work - the cashier asked, "I need to see your ID." But that was only one phase of her plan.
"Look, I'm 37. I'm a nurse and I just worked a double shift. I must have left my ID at the hospital. I just have a young face. Can you let it slide this one time?" she said.
"Sorry, sister. It's nothing personal. I'd get in trouble if I sold alcohol without checking ID. You'll just have to come back," he said. The stout man shrugged his shoulders.
"Yeah, you're right. Hey, the sales tax is 17 percent, right?" she said, executing the final phase of the plan.
"Seventeen? No way. It's seven," he said.
"Are you sure? I really think it's seventeen. Did I mention I'm paying in cash?" she said.
It finally dawned on the slow man. "Ohh. My mistake. You're absolutely right. It is seventeen. Pleasure doing business with you ma'am."
The vodka didn't taste good but she liked how it made her feel less anxious. If she added some orange juice or lemonade, she could pretend she wasn't drinking until the effects kicked in later. It was a honeymoon that wouldn't last.
Umar, the cashier felt a twinge of guilt about the sale. She probably was a few years underage. He needed to be careful, but it was a big city and no one had time to bust every shop selling vodka. Anyway, business was all about taking risks.