Mr. Monk and the Supermarket
OK, I’m trying something just a little different here. I know the new episode should have been up by now, but I’m afraid I’m behind…again. So, I thought I’d try my hand at a fan fiction story, and this is my first one. I would like to think there will be more in the future. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!
Monk watched in horror. He rolled his eyes in despair and looked away. He took a deep breath. The cashier…had a cold. A cold! He was coughing, and, and…coughing!He should have stayed home from work. If not, he should be fired. Natalie noticed Monk beginning to fidget.
“What’s wrong?” she said as she continued to put the groceries on the counter. Monk started to explain in no uncertain terms what was wrong, but Natalie spoke up again. “Oh, darn it.” She turned to Monk. “I forgot the pickle relish, would you mind to go and get a jar for me?” Monk hesitated, but saw this as divine intervention. This was his escape from the carrier of the plague that stood not 10 feet away from him. Monk cleared his throat, and turned to go.
Natalie continued, and drew out her checkbook. Monk should be back any time now. In fact, he should have already been back. Natalie waited for a minute more. She checked her watch. 10 minutes since he had left. A crooked grin crossed her face and she chuckled to herself. Monk would have been proud.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be right back,” she offered the cashier apologetically. He turned to blow his nose. She lowered her head and took a deep breath as she waded through the undisguised groans coming from the customers. The line had been growing steadily, and now she was leaving. She was hoping the tires on her car were still intact when, strike that, IF she finished.
It’s pickle relish; how hard could it be? She asked herself the question again, and imagined Monk. She shook her head. THAT hard, she told herself. She knew Monk couldn’t forget where it was, so what was taking him so long?
She rounded a corner and saw two store employees standing in the middle of the aisle. They were chuckling to themselves. Natalie closed her eyes and swallowed. Monk was close by. She walked a little further and, sure enough: Monk had taken upon himself the task of rearranging the pickle relish. He turned the jars until the label faced out; they were in rows of 10, of course. And if there was an odd number of jars on the shelf, he would pick the jar up with his handkerchief and neatly place it back into the box. The employees continued to chuckle.
It was apparent to Monk that there were no employees worthy of their position in this blasted store. He ignored their taunts and continued his task.
Natalie walked over to Monk, picked up a jar from the shelf, and started to lead Monk away.
“Mr. Monk, I only needed one jar,” she said softly. Monk held up his hand and made a face that said, “you really don’t understand, do you?” How Natalie wished that she did.
“But it was…” He stopped the sentence short. They stood for a moment more, then Natalie started to lead Monk away. Monk held up a finger and turned on his heels.
“Hold on, sorry…” He opened the cardboard box. He retrieved a jar, and placed it on the shelf in place of the one Natalie had taken. The crooked grin reappeared on her face. She placed a hand on Monk’s back and began to walk toward the check out line once again.
