Free The Mike Black Saga; MOB by Roy Glenn

Travis and stepped out. She wore a black suit with a yellow blouse; she came around the car and walked right by Travis. As she passed, it appeared that she looked directly at Travis and said pleasure me . He knew he was trippin’, but he gave her a ten-second count before getting out of his car and going in after her.
    Travis entered the store, grabbed a shopping cart, and looked around. He spotted her in the produce aisle. He approached slowly, watching and waiting for what he considered the perfect opportunity to move on her. He began placing items in his shopping cart from whatever aisle she went down, to keep up appearances. In the last two weeks, he had bought enough stuff to last a month at his house, and had begun to give the stuff he’d bought to Jackie and Ronnie.
    As she continued to shop, Travis kept her in sight, never allowing more than one aisle’s distance between them. When she stopped at the magazine aisle, Travis made his move. He approached and posted up next to her as she flipped through the latest copy of Essence . Travis picked up a copy of Black Enterprise and began to flip pages as well. “Excuse me,” Travis said. She turned to face him.
    “Yes?”
    All of a sudden, a cold chill ran through his body. Here he was, finally standing face to face with the woman he had been fiendin’ for these last two weeks, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. He briefly considered the direct approach: Look, ever since you rammed your shopping cart into me two weeks ago, I’ve thought about nothing but you. Each time I close my eyes I see your face and I dream sweet dreams of you each night when I sleep. The sound of your voice echoes in my ears all the time. So please, tell me, what’s your name?
    Instead, he said, “I thought that was you.”
    “I beg your pardon?” she said, looking very curiously at Travis.
    “I guess you don’t remember me. I was the one that you accidentally ran into with your shopping cart a couple weeks ago.”
    “Oh, was that you?” the woman asked, thinking that Travis was kind of cute. “I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going,”
    “No, you were reading the label on a box of Special K,” Travis said.  He laughed as he pointed to the box of Special K she had in her cart.
    “Yeah.” She laughed too. “I always read the nutrition facts on everything that I buy.”
    “Nutrition facts?” Travis asked.
    “You’ve never read the nutrition facts on the things you buy?”
    “I’m ashamed to say it, but no, I don’t,” Travis said and dropped his eyes in mock shame. Inside, he was glowing.
    “On the label of just about any kind of packaged food that you buy, there are nutrition facts,” she said. “It gives you information that you need to know about the foods that you eat.” She put her magazine back on the rack and reached into his shopping cart then stepped next to Travis.  His heart began to pound.
    She pointed to the nutrition facts on the package of frozen corn on the cob. “Look at the label on that package. It tells you that this corn has only ninety calories and that five of those calories came from fat. There’s only one gram of total fat. It has no saturated fat or sodium. Now look at that box of mac and cheese. Look at both packages and compare the two.”
    “Two hundred and sixty calories and four hundred if I use margarine and two-percent milk,” Travis said.
    “And who doesn’t put margarine and milk in their mac and cheese?”
    “Nobody.”
    “Now check out the amount of sodium it has, and compare it to the corn,” she instructed.
    Travis did as he was told. At this point, he would have hopped on one leg and barked like a dog if she said wanted to see it. “The corn has no sodium, and wow! This mac and cheese has seven hundred twenty milligrams. That’s a big difference.”
    “And it is so much more sodium than we black people, who are already prone to high blood pressure, need in our diets. So, we should really