**THREE**
THE WALMART SCENE
“DO WE NEED ANY SHIT-PAPER?”
My sister and I chorus groans of embarrassment.
“WHAT ABOUT SOME ASS-WIPES, DO WE NEED ANY OF THOSE?”
Tammy’s cheeks flush to a pretty red. “Pia, tell him to stop.”
“Like he’s going to listen to me,” I reply.
My dad…well, he’s something, alright. This happens almost every single time we go to Wal-Mart. There’s a Wal-Mart right up the street from our house. It’s like our home-away-from-home. We practically come here almost every day for something. Every cashier knows who we are, and vise versa. I wouldn’t be surprised if they all came to my sister’s graduation.
“ASS WIPES? ANY SHIT PAPER?”
A woman shopping for some paper towels whips her head around to send my dad a startled look. He whistles casually, acting as if what he said was normal to say in a local Wal-Mart. Which, really, it’s not. Not normal at all.
Tam smacks a hand to run down her cheek. “We need to get out of this aisle - and fast.”
“Way ahead of you,” I reply. I peer over at my dad, whose grinning like mad. He plucks some toilet paper from the shelf and throws it into the cart. I bite on my lip to keep a smile from spilling out onto my face. “Dad?”
“What was that? You want some SHIT - ”
“No, dad,” I cut him off. A little old lady scowls at us as we walk by. “How about Tammy and I go get some items so that our shopping get’s done a little quicker?”
He seems to ponder over this a moment as he compares prices of the paper towels. “Why? Don’t want to shop with me?”
“No, that’s not it,” I answer. “Just thought it would help.”
He tosses in some paper towels, then moves the cart out of the aisle and to the next one. “I GUESS WE DIDN’T NEED ANY SHIT PAPER, HUH, PIA?”
I take five steps away from him, grabbing the first thing I see and inspect it thoroughly. Tam copies me, acting as if we have no clue who he is. But, of course, my dad doesn’t let that go unnoticed. He nudges my sister, grinning again. “NO ASS WIPES TODAY THEN, TAMMY?”
She groans again. “Oh good god, I’m going to get some food. I’ll be back - or not.” With that, she briskly walks away, disappearing up one of the aisles. She made sure that it was the farthest away from where our dad is standing.
My dad chuckles, shaking his head. “I love it how you two get annoyed with that.” He picks up some cans of tomato paste. “Pia, can you go get some fresh cold cuts from the deli?”
YOU ARE READING
The Jersey Girl
Romance'Scene doesn’t even acknowledge that Angelica, his girlfriend of two years, is in the room, watching us make out against my fake boyfriend’s kitchen wall. Wow, my life is screwed up with a capital S.' Pia Lombardi hates New Jersey. Period. When she...
