I was innocently buying a soda and a Kit Kat bar from a snack shop recently when the cashier said, “Oh, a Kit Kat! That’s what I named my cat!” and then launched into An Monologue.
Nobody was behind me in line, which seemed to be a good reason for her to treat me to a five minute retelling of the identification, rescue, and argument over initial custody of Kit Kat, who was so small they thought when they first heard him crying for help that he was a bird and not a kitten in a tree, and is now fifteen pounds of “pure, sculpted lardass”.
And I didn’t mind, precisely, I wasn’t bored or anything, but around the time she was bringing me up to speed on Kit Kat’s current status it occurred to me that this woman is a cashier in a store that primarily sells candy bars and beverages. People must buy Kit Kat bars from her multiple times a day. Does she do this every time there’s nobody in line behind the purchaser? Did I just have that I Own Several Cats And Will Enjoy Your Cat Stories look about me? Was it the first time it occurred to her that she sold the brand of candy bar she named her cat after? Was she new to the job of selling Kit Kat bars?
The idea that every time she sees a Kit Kat bar she is gripped by the urge, Manchurian Candidate style, to retell the story of Kit Kat the Cat, elevates her from a friendly cashier to a deep enigma. Truly there is no knowing the mind of another.


