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The Shes from 'A&P'

A Rewrite of Updike

By Clarissa JoycePublished 6 years ago 7 min read
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I was given an assignment: Analyze John Updike's A&P, or rewrite it any way you want. It was the one and only creative writing assignment for the semester, and I was not going to pass it up. So, here is the result of my rewrite of Updike.

Into the store we go. In nothing but our swimsuits, my friends and I walk into the A&P hoping no one will notice. My mother asked me to go and get herring snacks in the middle of the neighborhood barbecue, just as we were about to go into the pool. My friends offered to come along, but none of us had the chance to change since my mom needed them, well, now. So, here we are. Freezing our butts off in the arctic tundra of a grocery store, with literally nothing but our damn swimsuits on. Hell, we didn't even have time to find our sandals.

As soon as the doors open, I feel it. The two boys at the registers notice us right away. I tried not to cringe as best I could, but I don’t know if I hid it very well. I notice the younger one watching; no, more like drooling over my friend. He was helping checkout an older woman ended up messing up on her purchase. It’s safe to say he got an earful from her. But, seeing that helped my friends and I relax a bit over this awkward situation.

I started looking for the herrings my mom wanted, and my friends followed close behind. Why is everything in this store so jumbled? Do they seriously need to have pet food, soda, and spaghetti in the same aisle?

None of us had any idea where this stupid herring was, so we walked up and down all the aisles. It was a bit awkward walking past the other people in the store. My top piece had slipped a little, but I was pretending not to notice it. If I acknowledge it, it’ll just make this all the more awkward. So, instead I’ll just do what I always do: own it. Might as well make the best of a bad situation, right?

I notice one of the boys at the registers watching me while we started heading to the end of another aisle. He was more around our age, and not too bad looking. I decided to acknowledge his stare, and tried to do one of those slow turns down the aisle. You know, the ones the actresses do in the movies that make all high school boys go dumb. Just as I think it could work, though, my friends kind of huddle behind me. If they realized what I was doing, they did a good job of ending it. They didn’t want to come here in the first place, and they knew if I tried anything with the cashier boy, we would probably be here even longer than we needed to be. So, down the next aisle we went. Where were those damn herrings?

We finally caved and asked the guy behind the meat counter. He pointed us toward a few aisles down. We had already been down that aisle, and I hadn’t seen anything, so I double checked and he confirmed. So, off to the aisle we went. Past the pyramid of diet soda, past the peanut butter-jelly-ramen noodle-ketchup-mustard-soy sauce-softener-detergent-dryer sheet-plates-silverware-toilet cleaner aisle, and into the donuts-pastries-bread-coffee-filters-sugar-tea-cake mix aisle. I swear, none of these aisles make sense, and just when you start to think they do, they don’t. But, there they were. Just as the meat counter guy said, bottom shelf, just under the sprinkle cake mix. I grabbed the jar of herrings, and headed to the registers, my friends still in tow. I wonder if they want to get one of those cake mixes as much as I do.

As soon as we got to the registers, I noticed both the cashier boys had empty aisles. The older one was closer, but he seemed a little creepy. I could have sworn I heard him say something when we first walked in, but maybe I just imagined that. We all started heading toward his lane, a little reluctantly at that, but were saved the potential awkwardness when some homeless looking guy walked up to him before we got there. Off to the younger one's lane we went. I put the jar on the counter and noticed his apron had a name embroidered on it. Sammy was his name. He took the jar and scanned it, looking a little confused. My guess was he was wonder what a bunch of girls in swimsuits were doing buying fish pickled in sour cream, or he was wondering where the money was. As soon as I pulled the cash out and handed it to him, his puzzled look turned into one of clarity. It was the money he was thinking about after all.

Just as I was about to give a sigh of relief that this trip hadn’t turned into an embarrassing fiasco, the manager walked in and spotted us. He was a boring and tired looking man, but you could tell he probably hated his job. But still, he starts walking over to us. Shit.

“Girls, this isn’t the beach,” he says. Shit, shit, shit. I could feel my face starting to turn red. If anyone wasn’t staring at us before, they definitely were now.

“My mother asked me to pick up a jar of herring snacks.” I tried to keep playing it cool, but it wasn't working. My voice cracks when I get nervous, and I was terrified right now.

“That’s alright. But this isn’t the beach,” he repeated. No shit, Sherlock. He really didn’t need to repeat himself. Stuff like that just pisses me off. I could feel my face turn more red, but not from embarrassment this time.

“We weren’t doing any shopping,” my friend piped in. They all know how I can get, and they didn’t need me starting any problems now. “We just came in for the one thing.”

“That makes no difference,” the old guy grumbled. “We want you decently dressed.” The way his expression changed was like the longer he had to talk to us, the more embarrassed he became.

“We are decent,” I sassed. Jeez, this guy really knew what to say to piss someone off.

“Girls,” he started, “I dont want to argue with you. After this, come in here with your shoulders covered. It’s our policy.” He turned around, and just when I thought he was finished added, “That’s policy for you. Policy is what the kingpins want. What the others want is juvenile delinquency.” Huh, the old man had some sass in him too.

He turned to Sammy the cashier boy, and asked if he’d wrung up the herrings yet.

“No,” he said. So he can talk after all… He wrung up the jar, handed me the change, twisted the bag that now had the herrings, and handed me the bag. We started leaving before it could get any worse. I could feel every eye in the store watching us at that point and just wanted to get out of there. All of a sudden, Sammy boy did something unexpected.

“I quit,” he exclaimed.

HOLY MOTHER OF WHAT! Did he quit because of us? Was he trying to play hero or something? Was he just insane? Am I overthinking this? Did he really just quit because of us? I wanted to stay and see what happened, but my friends and I really had to get the herrings to my mother. We walked out, and just as the old dude said something, but the doors closed before I could hear anything else.

“Well, that was fun,” I said. My words clearly drooping in sarcasm. My friends were not amused.

We started walking back to the house, the change I placed in the bag jingling along to our conversation about the boy who had just quit his job. The more we talked about it, the more I thought he seemed like an impulsive idiot, while my friends ranged to thinking of him as heroic, mental, and a prince charming. But, we all did agree on one thing; it was definitely an event we wouldn’t forget about for awhile.

fan fiction
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About the Creator

Clarissa Joyce

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