The Cookie Monster

Cookies. That’s the first thing I think about when I wake up.
I LOVE cookies, but who doesn’t? Everyone loves cookies. That’s what motivates people, right?

Today is Monday, shopping day. I wake up, eat four chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, and head out into the big world.
I am walking down the street to Kim’s grocery, passing by all kinds of weird people. A man is walking in the opposite direction eating some kind of sandwich. He’s probably trying to conceal the fact that he has cookies. Why else would he eat a sandwich instead of a delicious cookie?
Another man is talking to a blonde near the mailbox. Yeah, he’s handsome, but it’s pretty obvious to everyone that she’s not interested. He puts his hand on her arm - and she flinches. He’s probably trying to get into her apartment and steal her cookies, but she’s not gonna fall for that.

Finally, Kim’s grocery, I enter the small store. Kim is standing at the counter. “Good morning Oogi,” Kim waves her hand and smiles.

“Good morning Kim,” I smile back. I like Kim, she seems like a nice person, I’ve been going to her store for almost six years now, and not once has she asked me about my cookies.

The store’s shelves are filled with useless products: bread, cheese, frozen meat, candies, sodas, beers, spices, and other items that try to distract you from buying cookies. Most people are fooled by all the variety here, but not me. I’m on to them, I know what they are trying to do.

Ah, here they are, glorious cookies: chocolate chip, oatmeal, rock cookies, peanut butter, gingerbread man, brownies, Oreos and much more! Cookies of all shapes and sizes, with dozens of different textures. It’s beautiful, art in its purest form.
I take one of each. It may seem like a lot, but one can never be too ready when it comes to cookies.

I start walking towards the counter carrying my precious cookies. On the way, I notice people staring. No need to panic - This always happens. Those people can be separated into two groups: the supporting and the envious. The supporting are those who wish they could be just like me, drowning in cookies for the rest of their lives. This group usually contains small children and dogs. Listening to what they say can identify them: “WOW”, “Mom\Dad, look!”, “He is sooo lucky, I wish I was an adult already”, and barking of different sorts.
The other group - the envious - is formed of people who want to steal my beloved cookies, mostly parents of small children and dog owners. They can be easily recognized as well. All they do is try to stop the other from fulfilling their dreams. They accomplish this by saying stuff like: “Don’t stare!”, “You’ll get cookies when you’ll have better grades”, “He’s a madman, stay away from him” and “Rusty, stop licking that guy!”

I’m waiting in line to pay for my cookies. Of course, some people would say that cookies should be free. After all, they are vital for living. I am one of those people.

“Hey there, handsome! Whatcha gonna do with all those cookies? You having a party?” The young lady behind me whispers.

Actually, she might have said: “Move already, you are holding up the line!” I’m not sure. People tell me I sometimes hear different things from what is actually being said. But I don’t trust them because they are just aiming for my cookies.

Better safe than sorry, I always say. That’s why I reply: “No, no party. Just saving them for emergencies. You can’t have them.”

The young lady got the message. She didn’t talk to me anymore.

At last, I got to the front of the line. I put my cookies on the counter and let Kim calculate how much I owe. “Twenty-seven dollars and ninety cents, like always Oogi.”
I take out a thirty-dollar bill and hand it to Kim. Or maybe it’s a twenty and a ten. It’s hard to concentrate with all those cookies in front of me. “Keep the change Kim, you deserve it,” I wink. I like to tip Kim. She’s a good person. She doesn’t ask me about my cookies.
“Thank you Oogi, have a nice day.”

On my way back from the store, I bump into one of those people who sleep on the streets just to find more cookies. I appreciate and respect their kind; their resolve to get cookies is unmatched. I think that people call them bums, but I’m not sure why. “You got any change?” the guy asks and tries to get close to me.

“If I give you change, will you leave my darlings alone?” This negotiation is hard to pull off, I have to do it every time, but I get better.
The bum looks confused. He knows how to conceal his real intentions well. I wonder if they have schools for that.
“Shuw, I vill leave you dalings alone.”
I take out my wallet and check how much change I have. A quarter and two dimes.
“Would a quarter and one dime be enough?”
“Shuw.”
I put my coins in his cookie-transforming device that looks like a regular cup. Those bums sure have some amazing tricks.

I hurry back to my apartment, trying not to cross any more bums along the way.
My shopping trip was a big success. I have safely arrived at my apartment, protected by solid walls from any invading cookies robbers.

All and all, it has been a good day.


The End