You are the Second Person.
	


	 You stand in the express checkout line at the grocery 
store, patiently waiting for your turn at the register.  It's 
slightly chilly in there, and your hand is nearly frozen where it 
grips the gallon of milk you're holding.
	You'd put it on the little conveyor belt if you could, but 
it's already full, despite the fact that there's only one person 
in front of you.
	In your other hand you have a bag of potato chips, a loaf 
of bread, and a bag of chocolate chip cookies.  It's not a real 
grocery trip; you're just picking up the bare essentials.  
	You thought it'd be easy.
	Just run in, grab a few things, and run back out.  It 
should only take you a few minutes to gather more food than your 
distant ancestors were able to hunt and gather all day.  That's 
what progress means.
	Unfortunately, it didn't work out that easily.
	You hadn't counted on her.
	You glare at the thirty-something broad when she's not 
looking.  This is her fault.  
	The conveyor belt is loaded down so much you suspect she's 
exceeded its carrying capacity.  Twenty items or less your left 
foot.  She's probably got five times that many, but the poor 
hassled cashier gave in when she pitched a bitch.  Now you're 
stuck with the result.
	Six loaves of bread, the cheap in-store kind, are scattered 
throughout the mess, with cereal boxes, canned vegetables, bags 
of chips, cookies, and juice containers stacked around, under, 
and occasionally on top of them.  She has also added a new broom 
and a bottle of floor wax; the broom threatens to slide off the 
mound of food and clatter to the floor.  There isn't a fresh 
vegetable or fruit in the mess, but you do spot a TV dinner that 
has some English peas mixed in with the might-be-chicken main 
course, and the juice probably has at least something similar to 
vitamin C in it's solution of artificial preservatives.
	Clearly, this woman has no idea how to cook, and she and 
her family lives off of TV dinners and junk food.  It even shows 
in her figure.
	Her auburn hair is artfully arranged in what might have 
been considered attractive on a teenager ten years ago, but now 
it just looks like a wig.  Her face was once pretty, but now not 
even the makeup can hide her huge pores and the faint beginnings 
of crow's feet around her eyes.  Her breasts are perky, but her 
hips have widened and her rear has spread to the point she 
brushes the rack of candy behind her when she turns to place 
still more items on the conveyor belt.
	All of the rest of the lines were twice as long as this 
one, and you casually walked over and stood behind her without 
thinking.  However, given how much stuff she's planning on 
buying, you suspect you would have been better off in the 
longer lines.
	She has also brought her son.  Probably she couldn't afford 
a babysitter to take care of him while she was away, so she 
decided to bring him along and ignore him here.
	He's at least three, and possibly four.  His white and red 
t-shirt is stained and grubby, and she needs to wipe his mouth.  
His hair is blond, his eyes blue, and you can already tell that 
he is a grade A brat.
	He's big enough that he should be on the floor, but he 
seems to prefer sitting in the child's seat on the back of the 
shopping buggy.  He fits fairly well, actually, he seems about as 
thick as a pencil.  Earlier, you watched him jump up and down in 
the big basket, screaming for a certain kind of cereal, but now 
he sits with his legs dangling through the holes, kicking his 
heel against the buggy rhythmically.
	He twists his head around wildly, humming a loud tuneless 
song to himself.  While this kind of behavior can be cute in your 
own kids, it is invariably annoying in public.  His eyes alight 
on a brightly wrapped candy bar and he immediately lunges for it.  
For him, to see is to want.
	Astonishingly enough, his mother notices his lunge.  
"Tommy!" she barks, twisting her face into a glower.  "Leave that 
alone!  You can have some candy when you get home!"
	He ignores her, stretching his arm out to the fullest and 
leaning far out of the buggy.
	"I said no," she repeats, and slaps his hand away.
	His response is to start bawling at the top of his lungs as 
he cradles his hand to his chest.  "Want candy!" he screeches.
	"No!" 
	By this time everyone in the store is staring at the 
spectacle, but she seems oblivious.
	"Dammit, Tommy, shut up!  You're not getting any candy 
until we get home."  
	He screeches even more.
	Sighing loudly in frustration, she quickly leans over and 
snatches up one of the candy bars and thrusts it at him.
	He refuses it at first, but takes it when she grumbles in 
frustration.  He wipes at his eyes with one wrist, then smiles to 
himself as soon as she turns away, his tears disappearing like 
magic.  He's got her all figured out.  And if your previous 
experience with brats is any indication, he's going to be a 
serious pain in the ass for everyone he's around for the rest of 
his life.
	He twists around and drops his hard earned candy bar on the 
floor.  It lies forgotten, as he has already got his eye on the 
fascinating goings on at the cash register.
	He pushes against the side of the buggy, using his almost 
extraordinary childhood flexibility to draw both of his legs out 
of the holes in the back, getting his feet underneath himself, 
and cautiously standing up in the child seat in complete 
disregard of the established safety rules for such, which his 
mother should have stopped, if she had bothered to notice at all.
	You look around.  Everyone has studiously returned to his 
or her shopping routines, ignoring the spectacle.  There isn't 
even anyone behind you in line.  Prospective customers take one 
look and quickly figure out that the woman will be there a while, 
as she is insisting on paying with out of date coupons and food 
stamps despite the cashier's refusal.  
	Too bad you weren't astute enough to realize the same.  But 
you've already been here a while and you're not going to give up 
now after investing this much time.
	The little boy gingerly spins around in his seat on shaky 
footing to face his mother.  You can see him prepare to step down 
into the basket.
	You sharply kick the wheel of the buggy.
	Already precariously balanced, the boy starts when his 
footing shifts, completely losing his balance and pitching 
forward in the basket.  His arms flail wildly, but he misjudges 
the distance and the hard wire catches him on the elbows and 
skins a short path up the underside of his forearms.  His head 
pitches forward as his arms hit, and the hard, knobby chrome 
catches him right across the bridge of his nose.
	His startled cry of shock and fear alerts the entire store 
to his plight, but you're safe.  No one saw you, and the boy is 
in no shape to recall just what exactly made him fall.  Even the 
in store security cameras would be hard pressed to spot your 
covert nudge, although it would be unlikely that they would 
bother to look.  
	As you prepare to deal with the fuss your impulsive action 
causes, you can't help but realize that you feel better now.  
Vindictive, perhaps, or maybe righteous would be a better word.  
The kid was obviously a brat, and probably deserved what he got 
and more.
	But you can't help but think: Wasn't the mother to blame 
far more than the poor child?
	What kind of monster hurts a child and feels good about it?
	Why did you do that?
	Why do you feel good about it?
	What is wrong with you?