I walked into the grocery store—the same one I had a hundred times before in other dreams. This time I was with a female companion and we were both experience hunger headaches. After some lengthy running up and down the isles, I decided against a purchase of marshmallow covered canned yams and we both decided on a single piece of fruit. Hers was a pear and mine was a rather unattractive apple with a number of scars on its skin.

We made our way to the checkout counter, fruit in hand. The cashier scanned her pear and thought the transaction was complete and began to ring up the total. I swooped in and placed my apple in the path of the lazer scanner. This is when things when horribly wrong.

The cashier immediately needed assistance from her supervisor. A small, spry indian woman came out and began casting accusations of theft from the, now open, cash register. She then looked at the new total on the lcd screen, reached into my pocket, and pulled out the cash that she claimed came from the cash register.

I tried to console her to no avail. At one point I realized we were both talking past eachother with accusations and my being defensive was only escalating things.

Once I was able to bring the tone of the conversation down, we were both understanding of eachother.

We then sat facing eachother—legs crossed, holding hands—and prayed together.

Then I ate the fuck out of that unfortunate looking apple.