[ WP ] Whatever you may need at a given moment appears in your pocket , could be money , a ticket , a condom ... but today , when you were at the grocery store , instead of the money you where expecting you got a gun .

**if I do n't write something tomorrow send me a mean PM** 
 
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 A good stew does n't really *need* bayleaves. There's plenty else that could be done. Every other necessary ingredient was present at the house, but for whatever reason the bayleaves had just up and vanished and the old coat pocket only turned up his car keys while Allie barked at him to `` get off his ass'' and go to the store. He sighed and calmed his nerves, resuming a lucid, clear state of mind. It was n't hard, especially when he reminded himself to be grateful of the life he had. As frustrating as the mounting mundane vagaries of suburban life could be it was important to remember how much worse things could get. He knew that better than anyone. 
 
 Having walked in without a basket or a cart aroused suspicion in spite of the fact that he was holding the item he intended to walk out with in plain sight, and a store employee who took their job too seriously was trailing him. He pretended not to notice as he traversed the short distance to the register with the shortest line. 
 
 `` Back so soon?'' said the pretty cashier with a bright eyed smile. As prolific of a bachelor as he had been he found himself less and less able to discern when women were being flirtatious with him lately. 
 
 `` Oh do n't worry, this time I'll be really *leave*-ing'' with a sly tilt of the head as he slid the container of bay leaves onto the counter over to her. Her brow knotted in faint disgust as she suppressed the wrong kind of laugh. 
 
 *I swear they used to love that shit... It's a good thing I finally found a wife, women these days make little sense to me. * 
 
 She scanned the bar code of the container, gazed blankly at the screen, and started pounding on one of the buttons to presumably unfreeze the computer screen. He wondered why she could n't just look at the goddamn price next to the bar code, as he reached for the wallet in that ever fateful pocket of his coat. 
 
 Instead he found something colder, and all too familiar: A Berreta 98, safety off. His world froze and he gazed into his mind to analyze what he could recall about his surroundings. 
 
 *Three entrances, 14 persons. Suspicious persons? A teenager had broken eye contact with him to text on their phone. Spy? No, just an awkward kid. A large, slavic man had been brooding for at least four minutes over the potatoes. Suspicious? No, just a Slav. An employee had following him because of the bay leaves. * 
 
... 
 
 *A 6 ft 2 male of 30-45 years of age with a military stride had been following him with his hands held stiffly in the pockets of an ill fitting Veggie Mart uniform. * 
 
 He exited the headspace and heard the heavy footsteps about ten spaces behind him. 
 
 `` UMMM SIR. THAT WILL BE $ 4.50. HELLO. SIR.'' 
 
 In the reflection across her glasses he could see the man pulling a gun. 
 
 `` 4.50? For fucking Bay Leaves?'' He drew the berreta and shot the would-be assassin through the heart. 
 
 The girl shrieked in horror, shortly followed by just about everyone else in view. With the threat now neutralized he was at a loss for how to handle the new dilemma. 
 
 `` Relax. We all have demons to keep at... *Bay. *''
