The only other place that was more depressing than the Dunder Mifflin office to Pam Beesly would definitely have to be Wegmans grocery store. She has come to this revelation after many years of pushing a shopping cart and filling it with food she doesn't like and buying it with a paycheck from a job she doesn't like. The similarities of the two places are horrible and incredible. At the office, she's annoyed by the constant ring of the telephone and humming of the computer monitors. At Wegmans, she's annoyed with the sound of easy listening music and obnoxious beeps from check out. At Wegmans, she hears the cries of children in strollers and in the office, she hears the cries of Michael. Both places have harsh white lighting and a cool draft that leaves her vision blurry and hands cold.
Pam evolved through out the years as a loyal Wegmans shopper. When she was little she accompanied her mother to the store and loved seeing the colors, shapes and textures of the fruits and vegetables in the produce section. Her favorites were the smooth red skins of apples, the green fleshy heads of broccoli and the pink fuzz from a peach. When Pam moved out of her childhood home and into her dorm at Marywood, she walked into Wegmans completely clueless and terrified. She shopped for things she already knew of and didn't need much effort to prepare like potato chips, Pop Tarts and yogurt. It was unhealthy but cheap. She used the extra allowance on alcohol (for her and Roy), condoms (also for her and Roy) and supplies for her art classes (for her and only her). After she dropped out of school and moved in with Roy she started to feel comfortable while she entered the store. Pam learned to prepare and make lists before shopping for the ingredients she needed for the homemade dinners she became accustomed to make. She also knew what were the best bargains and could find the most obscure items like capers or fish oil in the maze of aisles. And if she were ever on that lame show, Super Market Sweep, she would navigate and stack up on hams like a champion.
But as the years went by, she lost her interest of cooking and shopping for Roy. After all, he always complained about what she cooked and added expensive items like steak onto her lists even though they both knew they couldn't afford it. Pam began to loath seeing the neon red light of Wegmans. It was like a caution sign to her own burning inferno she put herself through on days when she really did not feel like dealing with the people or the prices. Especially after hectic work days or weekends when all she wanted to do was stay in bed. Yet she entered that hell with coupons in one hand and a basket in the other. Her schedule was wake up, work, Wegmans. Wake up, work, Wegmans.
Two weeks before the wedding, Pam caught her reflection in the fresh lobster tank. It was blank, lonely and selfless and just plain sad. She also noticed the similarity of the look on her own mother's face from whenever Pam tagged along on errands when she was younger. She remembered seeing her mother with the same distant stare while waiting in the check out line surrounded by tabloid magazines and candy bars. It was at that moment when she realized that it was a look of a lost woman. A lost woman who spent her time on catering to others without much of a 'thank you' or 'please'.
Pam often found herself comparing the prices of groceries to the art supplies she used to indulged in. Three boxes of cereal would be a new sketchbook. A pound of turkey breast from the deli could be a new paintbrush. A six pack of beer for Roy would be a decent charcoal set. Pam tried to think of what her mother would have liked to splurge on all those years when she was providing for the family. Maybe flowers and tools for a garden she always spoke of but never had or even tickets from the theater she used to perform in when she was in college, before she was married with children and didn't have to worry about cutting out coupons on the weekend.
Pam called off the wedding two days later.
After finding her new independence, Pam confronted the grocery store with the same fresh outlook she had when signing the lease of her new apartment and attending her first art class in years. She explored the organic aisle and tried all the different varieties of hummus (roasted eggplant was a new favorite), splurged on brand names (Wegmans own does not compare to the greatness of Cracker Barrel cheddar cheese), and bought the cereal she preferred (Kashi. Who cares old people are on the front cover? It's fucking delicious). Pam even mastered the self-check out, not even caring about the line of annoyed customers that gathered behind her.
On a hot July day, Pam Beesly was trying to politely excuse herself pass the many tourists that flocked to Wegmans (Who would want to visit a town like Scranton?) and headed to the produce section. Apples, broccoli and peaches were on her list. After examining the firmness, size and condition of the apples, Pam found four to her liking and headed over to the hanging scale to place the apples in a plastic bag. As she twisted the red tie around the bag, Pam remembered a trick her mother taught her on one of their many journeys to the grocery store. On one trip, her mother was trying her best to get her to sit properly in the shopping cart as she felt the glances from the teenaged boys stocking the shelves and other sympathetic mothers. Her negotiations were not working so she decided to find something to distract her daughter.
"Here," her mother said as she reached for Pam's finger and revealed a tie. Wire, but with red paper covering it. She twisted the tie around her finger, not too tight, and then rolled the remaining paper into a ball. "It's looks like a diamond ring. You see, honey?"
Of course Pam's seven-year old imagination did see a diamond ring. The twist tie ring became a hidden secret she shared with her mother. It was just a silly habit and she never put much thought into it. That's why at thirty-years old, Pam was scared shitless and had no idea what possessed her to take a red twist tie and wrap it around her left ring finger.
Over the past year, Pam has gotten used to the bare feeling of her ring finger. She actually kind of liked it. It's not like she wanted to get married anytime soon. It was crazy of her to think of such a thing. She's been with Jim for a little over a month now, even for them that's a commitment way into the future. Everything was amazing, great, perfect between the two but the last thing Pam wanted to do was wear another engagement ring and plan another wedding. She was enjoying life and didn't feel the rushed pressure of the express line.
Pam took a fresh tie and sealed the bag of apples and headed towards the peaches. The entire time she walked over to the stand she stared at her left hand gripping the shopping cart, her full attention on the twist tie ring.
"There you are."
Pam looked behind her shoulder and saw Jim walking towards her with a gallon of milk in his hand and a blue box in the other.
"Now, I know you told me to go dairy and no stops on the way back," Jim explained as he placed the milk into the shopping cart. "But I thought you wouldn't mind this."
He held up a box of Entenmann's raspberry danish and wiggled his eyebrows.
"How do you know all my vices?" Pam asked as she took the pastry and placed it in the cart.
"Are you kidding me?" Jim laughed as he helped Pam look through the peaches. "I have seen you destroy one of those danishes by yourself. Just try to make this box last this time. I want to have at least a few crumbs of it."
Pam rolled her eyes and brought a peach up to her cheek. She softly rubbed the fruit against her skin and liked the way the fuzz tickled her cheek, something Jim always teased her about but she ignored it because she didn't mind the company when she shopped.
"Hey, do you mind if we don't go out Saturday night?" Pam asked as she took Jim's peaches and placed them with hers in another plastic bag. "I want to take my mom out to a play she's been talking about lately. Oh! And do you care if we make a stop before we go home too? I just want to pick out a new sketchbook."
"Sure, that's fine. Sounds like fun." Jim grabbed the shopping cart and pushed it as Pam followed next to him. "You know, Pam, I think you should actually hold off on that sketchbook. You should explore in a more performance art field."
"Oh, really?" Pam raised an eyebrow. She stopped at the deli and grabbed a number for the line. They needed to stack up on some ham and cheese. "What do you mean by that?"
"Alright, picture this. You should shave off all your hair and stand on a wood box on a street corner and just eat an entire raspberry danish in front of everyone as some sort of radical political statement," Jim teased as he wrapped his arm around Pam's waist and waited in line with her. "I'd pay a lot of money to see that. Especially if you were naked."
Pam blushed and fiddled with the tie ring behind her back.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter End Notes:
Sorry if I got anything Wegmans related wrong, there are none in my area. I gotta represent Stop and Shop. I also make twist tie rings all the time because I am easily amused. Thanks for reading.
ripple is the author of 0 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked revelations in aisle five also liked 2084 other stories.
