My first adventure outside my room in this new world and I was anxious as hell to be there. I walked briskly, trying to hurry to my first destination, the bank. Glancing at my phone I vaguely wondered what other people thought I was doing if they couldn't see the phone. Something to ask about later. Looking at the map, I realized that it contained a new button that hadn't been there before. I guess this is one of the changes that were made to it. It looked like it was one of those toggle buttons. Activating it my map got crowded and tons of information flooded my screen. Freezing in shock, I knew that I was seeing a live-action marauders map. There was more detail than just names though. It was more of the In another world with my smartphone map on my phone. Staring at it in wonder I could see all the names of the people passing by me.
I could even see my name. It was a little dot in the middle of the street on the map. A concerned sounding shout broke my concentration and left me puzzled. The honking of horns, though, was the biggest clue that I had done something wrong. People shouldn't be on their phones when crossing the street! Hurrying out of the crosswalk I made it to the other side to see that I had missed my turn and was walking the wrong way. Backtracking, I waited for the light to cross. I had all these names, people I've never met or talked to, listed on my phone and milling about. Putting the thought in the back of my mind, I focused on my goal for the day. Getting everything I would need to hole up in my room. I would never need to call the front desk again. First stop, the bank, and by the bank I mean the normal one. Eleven months until I officially enter the wizarding world. Almost a year of living in the muggle world and I can't wear robes every day.
The bank looked awfully intimidating when I stepped inside. Marble floors, carved arches, and columns depicting very old art styles, high ceilings that echoed, tall narrow windows that streamed light onto a pristine open lobby. Dread gripped me tightly when it clicked that I would have to talk to a teller to get my bank card. Luckily, there were ATMs so this situation would only have to happen once. I hoped what God had said was true when I got in line. I wouldn't know what to do if they started asking questions. People moved briskly through the line and before I knew it I was being waved forward. Taking a shallow breath I approached the women at the counter " Hello little miss what can I do for you?" She leaned over her counter to see me and asked. Inhaling deeply I spoke, " I would like to get a new banking card please."It felt like a whisper coming from me but the lady didn't seem to mind. "Alright, do you have the necessary documents and account information for me." Silently I handed over the papers with the information. Staggering moments passed as she inputted the information and pulled up the account. "It's all correct here, so your card will be sent to you in 3 to 5 business days and you'll have to activate it at one of the ATMs and set a pin. Would you like me to help you with anything else today?" Her voice was level and polite as she passed me back the documents. The hardest part passed I requested a bank statement and a few pounds. I would need them if I was to survive those few days until the card arrived. Finishing the transaction the woman cheerfully wished me a good day and I scurried out. As I left the building I placed everything carefully into the bag before looking up the nearest clothing shop. Studying the map on my phone, I realized it would only take me 10 minutes to walk to the shop. Step after step took me to the shop I had chosen entrance. Finding the children's section within proved to be easy enough but the sight of the clothes there made me retreat a step. Quickly, I realized the mistake I had made. I was no longer a fully grown woman, I was a child, so I had to shop in the children's section again. It was almost enough to make me cry. The children's styles were cringe-worthy here. Roses, carnations, lilies, pansies, sunflowers. FLOWERS, just a sea of flower coated clothes stood in front of me. Floral prints dominated everything. It was as if a psychotic clown had decided to run and paste flower stickers on everything. Correction some were sewn on, so it was more of a crazed tailor who could only sew one thing. "Positive thoughts Alise, it can't possibly be that bad. There might be one or two things that weren't awful" the pep talk to myself seemed optimistic but the realist in me was pulling me down into despair. I had nothing against flowers but I do hold a strong belief that there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. And flowers on clothing fell into that category.
Calm down, every time period has plain solid color clothes. Even the 70s weren't all tie-dye, right? I just need to find a few plainclothes for everyday wear nothing too flashy and then I can escape from the Flowermaggedon. Even if I had to scour this store and dive deep into the boys' section I'd find some decent non-flower clothes. I found some jeans and a few plain colored shirts. It was all functional but pretty limited in selection. I was worried, it might be a difficult situation if I had to go somewhere that wasn't jean friendly. I guess I could just play up the kid factor, but that made me uncomfortable. Luck was on my side though. Adult clothes shrunk to kids size for parent-child matching outfits were in a corner of the section. I used to think those clothes were a bit weird, but now I really appreciate them. They made me comfortable at the very least. I knew they weren't suitable for my outside age but internally I couldn't handle most of the other clothes. Really, they weren't too bad. The weirdest part of these was usually the matching bit, and since no one would be matching mine, it should be fine. The shop assistant looked at me a bit funny when I ordered just one-half of the sets. At that point, my brain was fried with the interaction. I still continued with it though. I'd rather the small anxiety of being judged once then the constant judgment of a group and myself.
With the clothing shopping finally complete and being delivered to the hotel I was on to my next stop. Grocery shopping, I needed ingredients to fulfill my scheme of using the kitchen in the suite. Cooking meant only one face to face talk a week and never having to call the front desk ever again. Win-Win situation for all the people involved. Searching up the nearest grocery store to the hotel, I found a small Waitrose that would serve me well. Hopefully, they would have one of those rolling carts to help you get things home. Like that neighbor lady's cart in the Harry Potter movies. Or at the very least a wagon. Entering the store, I didn't know what to expect but everything was set up as normal. Except for the bakery section. A large selection of freshly baked bread stood on several shelves. Making the whole shop smell fantastic. None of the smell dissipated when the door opened, so they must have made the bread recently. Entering the store I decided in my head that finding one of those carts was my first goal.
On my fourth lap through the store, I knew I was out of luck. They were either out of stock or did not carry them. Size-wise I needed the art. Without it, my tiny arms would never get everything home. Getting nowhere on my own, my next choice was obvious. Asking an employee could go one of two ways. Number one, The Peppmeister. They're the kind who tells you step by step how to get to your item in the store. Then leads you to it while making small really bad small talk. Even after you get the item they still try to keep the conversation going and lead you to the next item. A good person and a great guide. Genuinely nice people who deserve to be paid more for caring for each person. In my case though, it would just traumatize them and me if we were to interact. My preference is for the dead inside employee. Just helpful enough to say the aisle and then leave you to wander aimlessly on your own. They are usually just looking forward to their break or the end of their shift. Another major issue with asking for help is if you mistake another customer for an employee. My personal nightmare would have a Lady standing next to the store employee screaming "I don't work here go bother them. They're the employee" while everyone looks on thinking I'm stupid or an arrogant ass.I'd curl up in a ball and cry after running all the way home, abandoning the shopping. Not that I would ever do that but listening to youtube videos on them made the idea stick. Checking for employee markings and watching to make sure they aren't on break is what I do before approaching anyone. Moving around to find an actual employee was simpler than I thought. Her name tag identified her as an employee. The green logo on the full apron that no one else had made it even clearer. All that's left is my growing panic of interrupting someone at a task. She was in crouched over in the middle of adjusting products and restocking shelves. You never want to be that person being rude and distracting others at their job.
Unfortunately, I had to. When I started to speak the woman turned and made direct eye contact with me. And that's when the back part of my head that probably held a child's mentality said it was a nice pretty lady and she could help us. Staring at the woman as she rose and approached, I was held in place by the fact that she was looking straight back. Gazing directly at me didn't help my fantasy of running away. Reality came back in the form of her twinkling voice. "Can I help you find something in the store miss?" Finally blinking at my personal train wreck I said in one fast long breath "Do you guys sell those cart thingies here?" I had a childish stutter but it didn't stop her from understanding me"Do you mean a trolley?". Practically shouting at the woman she seemed unfazed at my bluntness. "Ummm... Yes, I need one to carry my things home." Smiling, the woman as if this was a normal response, pointed up. As if her vagueness was supposed to mean something to me I became more flustered. Following her line of sight, I gazed above me and there on top of the shelves lay what I was looking for. Stupid, this thinking reminded me I was just a child now. I was so small that everything up top would be out of my normal line of sight." Would you like me to get you one?" her jovial tone didn't make me any less timid as I replied meekly "Yes, please" in a whisper. Retrieving a ladder she got a simple black and white one down from the shelf. "Have a good day." was all she said before going back to what she was doing. Relief from her dismissal washed over me, I proceeded to browse the selection of ready-made food. Finding the selection somewhat wanting, I dropped that idea. Being alone for a year, I should probably be eating more healthy than before so I don't gain weight. Simple recipes pulled up on my screen gave me tons of choices. Picking the website with tutorial videos I began to shop for the week. Finding everything, I wandered without purpose for anything else that I might want. Chips, cinnamon rolls, and shortbread cookies went into the cart. I wandered down the candy aisle last. Most of the big-name candy was there
A small unusual candy caught my eye. If you are American and watch too many international shows then you had a slight obsession with these. America had banned them years ago so they were considered contraband. Such a small treat and no one was allowed to have them unless you traveled or went to the black market. Kinder eggs, the forbidden fruit for America. I couldn't help myself. I needed them. I bought a dozen at least. I could eat the chocolate even if it was nasty. I wanted to assemble the toys. Leaving with my prizes I happily scurried to the checkout.
The editors wail and still I march on
these terrible poems will never be gone.
I lay in my bed
awaiting a bash on the head
Waiting till they notice this song
and scream that I've gone totally wrong