Watch where you're going (Miniclover)

Apples, pears, potatoes, baskets full of them right next to grains and seeds. What was I supposed to get again? Blankly I look at the rows of groceries in the small shop I’m standing in. I chose this one because it’s really close to the Career training center and small enough not to confuse the hell out of me. Yet I stand here as if getting some groceries was the most typical task on earth. It is when you consider how much I hate it. This is girls work. Why did my father send me to do the shopping and not the woman, who regularily helps out around the house since mom has left.
I guess I’m not that far away from having my own place so I’d better do what’s necessary. With a frown I throw a few things in my basket, then venture over to the milk and cold meat, picking out whatever appeals to me. Money is not a problem in our family so I don’t care what things cost.
What catches my eye are the packs of cigarettes behind the counter though. So far I stayed away from smoking, only accepting a few from friends every now and then but today I buy a pack.
Placing my money on the counter I thank the shop keeper and then push the old wooden door, with the glass insert that lets the sun shine through, open with my shoulder and bump right into whoever is trying to enter.
Instead of saying sorry, which seems to never leave my lips I give the curly blond a hard look and tell her. “Watch where you’re going.” I guess that’s the mood I’m in when they tell me to do girls stuff.