Tatatata!
Who: Afonso and his "sugar baby"
When: July 17th, in the afternoon.
Where: Liberty grocery store.
What: Shopping. It starts on a teenager's never ending stomach, and then it all spirals down from there.
( O dinheiro não nasce nas árvores! )
When: July 17th, in the afternoon.
Where: Liberty grocery store.
What: Shopping. It starts on a teenager's never ending stomach, and then it all spirals down from there.
( O dinheiro não nasce nas árvores! )
It felt like being ushered in somewhere to greet your death while being surrounded by life-giving substances in brightly coloured wrappings.
Luciano took a cautious step forward, wary of setting off some trap as if he were in some kind of modernistic Indiana Jones film and this supermarket was the Temple of Doom. (Stranger things had been seen on his auntie's telenovelas.)
Predictably, nothing happened. Therefore, he felt a bit more comfortable taking another step forward (and only jumping a little bit when the automatic doors closed behind him).
The aroma of baking bread and confections wafted through the air and the Brazilian teenager was immediately struck by the realization that he was starving, weird feijoada or not. The longing for pão de queijo hit with merciless force. Luciano immediately ducked down the first aisle (full of coffee brands he'd never even heard of and more than he had even known existed) and followed his nose. American markets, being so huge and international and all that, had to have pão de queijo in their bakery section. He was still getting used to the idea of a bakery inside a grocery store, but pão de queijo! It was like a staple of life!
...the amazing and huge international American bakery section did not have it. The glass displays were smudged with enough imprints of Luciano's nose pressed up against them that he could be completely sure of this fact. It didn't even have Forno de Minas or Casa do Pão de Queijo mix. Not a Yoki or Hikari brand name batter box to be seen down the entire baking aisle.
With a frown of marked displeasure, Luciano hurried to the sign hanging overhead that was marked with "Cheeses/Quesos". "Quesos" looked enough like "queijos" that he was fairly certain it meant the same thing.
With no small amount of surprise, Luci stared at the wide selection of the world's cheeses in shock and disbelief.
...this hellish place had no minas.
"What the hell kind of American supermarket is this?" Luciano complained loudly.
"America is supposed to have everything!"
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It had taken him a while to realise, however, that he'd moved away from Afonso and Luciano, and when he returned hurriedly to Afonso's side, he realised that Luciano was gone.
"...Ave maria," he breathed, attempting English again, "Where he went to?"
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Afonso had looked away for half a second and that monkey boy was already gone! It was more like taking care of a toddler than a bratty teenager, and Afonso put his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples. At least the blonde one had stayed in his line of sight, right? Pushing the cart he'd grabbed forward, Afonso started looking between the aisles for Luciano, turning his attention to Martín.
In reality, he probably should have expected this. But somehow the idea of an easy supermarket trip was right there in his mind, and Afonso had chosen to ignore the nagging voice in his head about teenagers with short attention spans. "...Alright, if you were seventeen and had the attention span of a gnat and the stomach of a tiger, where would you go in a supermarket?"
Luckily, that question was answered for Afonso by the faint sounds of someone complaining in Portuguese. (That was a sound his ears were more attuned to.) Sighing and muttering something about "it's just cheese", the Portuguese motioned for Martín to follow him towards the back of the store. "Luciano!"
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