The Man from the Moon
The Man from the Moon
           A man in a white space suit walked toward Asia Market as if he was walking on the moon. I blinked in confusion. Why on earth would a man dress up like that just to go to a grocery store? I blinked again just to make sure I wasn’t just hallucinating.           Sure enough, I was just seeing things.           This had been happening to me often lately. My friend, Cassie Teng, called it lack-of-REM-sleep induced psychosis. I freaked out upon hearing the word psychosis because images of Norman Bates came to my mind. I took showers with my eyes wide open since then even though according to Cassie, I was the one experiencing psychosis. Whatever. She was probably just showing off her sudden influx of medical vocabulary. She had been doing a lot of it ever since she got into Duke. Once she told me I had tuberculosis because I was having night sweats. This made my hypochondriac self rush to the nearest clinic and had a TB test taken. Well, to make the story short, I didn’t have TB, I just had the heat in my house set too high, and I almost sued Cassie’s ass for distress.           My other friend, Regina Patel, claimed that my hallucinations were caused by lack of sexual activity.            I thought both of them were out of their minds. All I needed was just my yearly eye exam.Or sex. I guess Regina was fifty percent right…
Okay, who am I kidding? She was a hundred percent right.
But I definitely did not have psychosis.
Anyway, I went inside the Asia Market, a place that I had been avoiding for quite some time now. It was here that my relationship with Tucker ended.
When we broke up, I thought it was good riddance. I mean, what the hell kinda name is Tucker anyways? It rhymes with f***er.
But still, memories of that day hurt. I cried every time images of Tucker and that Korean girl came to my mind. What was worse was that every time I thought of that day, the Korean girl became more and more gorgeous. Drop dead.
I wanted her to drop dead.
I walked down Aisle 2, where jars of pickled goods were displayed. Spicy bamboo shoots, pickled cucumber, sour papaya, pickled ginger, kimchi…
I froze in my tracks.
Tucker was holding a jar of kimchi that day I bumped into him in this store. And that was the day I told myself to never eat kimchi again – a New Year’s resolution in the middle of July.
“You must hate kimchi that much, huh?†an amused male voice said, bringing me back to present day. I turned to my left and came face to face with the man from the moon, but now, hallucinations aside, he was just wearing a plain lab coat.
“Huh?†I said. It was all I could manage.
“You’re looking at the kimchi jars with tears falling from your eyes and fists clenched as if you’re about to smash them,†Moon Man said.
I stared at him blankly. For some reason, I didn’t realize I had been crying… in public. Okay, maybe I had issues.
More tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t even make an effort to wipe my tears… and my… snot?
Holy crap! How embarrassing was that?
I turned around and frantically searched my purse for tissue. Great. I didn’t bring any.
There was only one option left – my sleeves. Eww. It was so first grade.
I glanced at Moon Man to see if he was still there. I didn’t want him to witness the very childish act I was about to do.
Moon Man smiled; his eyes were playful, his dimple was enticing. He reached into his pocket and handed me something. It was a white handkerchief.
Then he walked away without saying anything anymore.
Even with a nose-full of snot, I could smell the scent from the handkerchief.
Drakkar Noir.
I wiped my eyes and my nose.
Definitely Drakkar Noir.
And then it hit me. Moon Man was cute. And he smelled good. And I had his handkerchief. I should at least get his number in case he wanted his hanky back (of course, after it’s washed). Just in case.
I scanned the aisle for a man in a white lab coat. None. Zero. Nada.
I went to the next aisle, and the next, and the one after that. I didn’t find him.
I ran outside, hoping he would still be in the parking lot.
No luck.
Moon Man was gone.
I smelled the handkerchief again. This time I didn’t smell Drakkar Noir. Instead, I smelled hope. Moon Man gave me hope because he talked to me even with my runny nose. He made me realize that I could meet someone.
That my life didn’t end with Tucker.
That I could move on.
I walked back to the Asia Market and bought a jar of kimchi. I never really stuck to New Year’s resolutions anyway.