Aisle 6

She had never made chili in her life.

But she still decided to enter her office's 2nd Annual Chili Cook-Off Contest. She wanted to be apart of something. And it didn't matter if it was related to heart burn and beans.

Pushing her cart down the grocery aisles was very relaxing to her. She liked to go alone so no one would bother her thoughts and she could just concentrate on the plethora of products surrounding her.

The Spice Islands brand of seasonings were much more eye-appealing than the McCormick. Ms. Dash was reasonably priced and still looked like a respectable spice line.

Chili...is it supposed to have thyme in it? she pondered to herself.

She should have thought this through better. At least scour through some recipes or cookbooks before she decided to come to the grocery store. But she hadn't been to the store in three weeks. She had been eating cheese and crackers and tuna fish for these last days before her paycheck would come in.

You can't put tuna in chili, can you?

And so she made the investment (in her work and in herself).

She sighed. Maybe she should just by the ten pounds of ground chuck that she had piled her in her cart first, get a recipe, and then come back to the store when she knew what spices to buy. But, no. That would use up gas. And cause carbon emissions to escape into the air. She didn't want to give children anymore respiratory diseases than were already taking place at that moment, which she assumed and was probably correct in thinking, that there were alot of cases.

She rolled her cart up and down Aisle 6 Sugar-Flour-Spices-Baking Goods.

Her eyes examined the packages of red meat sitting in her cart.

Was ten pounds too much? Well, surely, she would have a delicious recipe that would call for such large quantities of meat, which would lead to everyone in her office raving of her culinary prowess and chowing down until the last drop of chili was licked clean from Harry Glazer's styrofoam bowl.

Harry's gonna love my chili. Harry Glazer worked in the IT department of the office. She'd seen him walk by her desk on numerous occasions and he would always give her a sincere smile. She was sure that he had a crush on her.

Rosemary....cumin....cinnamon...lemon pepper....sea salt...all of these sounded like they should be in chili to her. Because they were not differentiated in her mind because she rarely cooked on a stove. Yes, the microwave is considered cooking to some. The toaster, perhaps. But she had never ventured away from her black pepper and kosher salt.

She decided to buy all of them. Every spice on the shelf to experiment. Surely once Harry finished off her chili, he would be back for so many more dinners at her apartment. She'd go through those spices in no time.