You Were a Waffle, Weren't You?

"Oh, good! An open lane," I thought as I was approaching the cash register. The soft, serene snowflakes had turned into angry sleet pellets so I wanted to get my groceries and then skedaddle home to avoid a treacherous drive. I was looking for the shortest line and I found it! My goal was to attempt little conversation with anyone so I could speed the transaction. I was on a mission.

As I was pulling closer to the conveyer belt to unload my cart, I noticed a somewhat familiar gentleman lingering, talking with the cashier in a manner that revealed they were friends. This guy reminded me of someone I knew in high school, except he seemed more, oh what's the word I'm looking for... hipster? Homeless? (sometimes it's difficult to tell the difference these days) I unloaded my things by category (because that's what I do); refrigerated things kept together, fruits and vegetables kept together, vegan carrot cake in a category all by itself; then pushed the cart to the end to position myself to pay.

I then made a huge mistake. I made eye contact with the cashier. What was I thinking?! My plans to swiftly exit were thwarted. As our eyes connected, we both instantly recognized one another. He was also from my high school and looked exactly how I remembered him.

"Heyyyyyy!" I said to him with a voice that climbed in octaves and dangled in the air longer than it should have.

"Hey! How are you?" he greeted as he was simultaneously scanning my items.

"I'm great!" I replied through a smile.

He asked if I lived in the area and for whatever reason, I felt the need to not only affirm that I did in fact live in the area, but to also tell him where. I might as well have given him the latitudinal and longitudinal degrees and a GPS. I get chatty when I am nervous. I was nervous.

He continued to scan my items and also seemed a little nervous. "You know, I need to apologize. I never gave you that camera like I should have and, gosh, so much time has passed, and I am sorry."

My wheels were spinning... Camera?.... Camera?... What camera is he talking about? Does he think I am someone else? Is he remembering an event that I wasn't a part of? I needed a little clarification. So I inquired. "Camera?"

"Yeah.  You know. You and I were the same thing in Student Council... What was it? Secretary, or something?"

"I was the Historian," I responded, still trying to connect the dots.

"Yeah! That was it! Well, you know. I have felt bad for so long. I'm married now. I've been married for 9 years. And, you know. Yeah. Well."

I wanted to congratulate him on the happy marriage but I was still trying to remember this incident that he clearly felt so guilty about. "You know, I guess I wasn't too upset and didn't hold a grudge. I don't even remember this!" I awkwardly laughed (because that's also what I do when I am nervous) and hoped I had helped clear his conscious.

He looked relieved. "Oh good!"

<insert awkward silence>

I was still thinking he had me mistaken for someone else until he broke the silence. "You were a waffle, weren't you?"

"Oh my gosh! You remember that?! I can't believe you remembered!" I knew then that he knew exactly who I was. And he has apparently been living with this guilt of some camera incident for 15 years.

"You had the best costumes!" he said while still scanning my groceries. Apparently I had more than I thought!

"Yeah. And then I was a cupcake! Do you remember that one?" He didn't remember. "Oh that's right! You graduated a year before me. I was the cupcake during my Senior year so you missed that one. I had some crazy costumes! That's for sure!"

"Did you buy them like that or did you make them?" he asked, a little more confident in his conversation, now that his conscious was clear.

"Oh no, I made them. My mom and I designed and made them by hand. Weird, I know." I smiled.

"Did you keep them?"

"Oh of course I did! Well, I loaned the waffle to someone and don't remember getting it back. But I still have the cupcake costume. I doubt it still fits."


By the time our conversation was approaching another awkward pause, he was done with my transaction and I was antsy to get to the car. All this time that I was trying to remember the camera incident, I was also trying to remember his name. I could completely visualize the group of friends he had and the kind of guy he was back then but his name was evading me in a stubborn way. Thankfully receipts these days are printed with the store number, register number, and cashier's name, but I didn't want to make it obvious I was searching for his name.

"Well, it was really great to see you!" I said as I was pushing the cart away, trying to not seem rude.

"Yeah, you too. Have a good night. Thanks for coming in!"

I replayed in my mind that entire encounter from beginning to end as I drove home (because that's also what I do). How strange that after all these years, the waffle costume's reputation still lives on and that I would run into someone from my home town who would remember it. I still don't know what inclined me to want food as my Halloween costumes for my Junior and Senior years of high school, but I was determined to dress as a waffle and then as a cupcake. My mother, bless her heart, encouraged this crazy notion and even helped me construct the life-size food items.

His name was Kyle - the cashier, not the waffle.

These are the stories of my life...

-With One L








Here is the waffle costume in all its glory; made out of foam bed padding for the waffle part, cardboard and aluminum foil for the fork and knife, and more bed foam for the square of butter between the silverware. Seriously, who thinks of these things? HELLO, braces and shin-high socks. I was such a nerd. The cupcake costume can be seen here.