Free isn't always free, especially free blueberry samples.

Free Sample Policy.

              I walked through the Goodman’s Friendly Market on my weekly trip to buy groceries. The store was quaint and wasn’t as big as many big chain stores, but I could usually find a good deal on many of the products I needed for the week. They mysteriously were always in stock in their food department. I didn’t know how they did it, but I appreciated the effort to keep their supplies well kept.

              I pushed my kart into the produce section and found a young man giving away free blueberry samples. He had a blue overall jacket and white apron on as he tried to give his product away to those who passed by. There was usually someone giving away samples in the produce section, trying to entice people to buy the products on sale. I usually ignored the samples, but today I had an urge to try my luck.

              The lad waved to me as I approached. “Hello, miss. Would you like to try some of our freshly grow blueberries? Nice, ripe, and perfectly delicious.”

              “Sure.”

              He held out his gloved hand. “I do have to warn you. One and one only before you buy.”

              “Warn me about free samples?” I crossed my arms. “Why?”

              He ran his hands through his short reddish hair.

“Well, it is just store policy. First one is free. Anything after that you have to pay for.”

              “Sounds reasonable.” I reached by him and picked up a blueberry and threw it into my mouth. “Oh my, the explosion of juice is just so. . . I can’t describe it.”

              The man smiled. “You like it.”

              I nodded. “Yes. How much are they?”

              “Twenty-five dollars a package.”

              My eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You have got to be kidding me. This is good but not that good.”

              He narrowed his blue eyes at me. “I don’t make the prices, lady.”

              “My name is Sarah, not lady.”

              “Ok, Sarah. Either buy the blueberries or move along.”

              I sighed. “I will.” I pushed my kart in the other direction. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about the blueberries. I needed a few more. I looked back at the sample counter.  If I can just sneak a few when he isn’t looking.

 I crept my way back over to the stand where the blueberry samples were being given out. I looked at the carrots and lettuce across the aisle, waiting for someone else to walk by, and to my luck, a young couple came along and chatted the man guarding the tasty treats up. I quickly dug my hand in and pulled out a handful, stuffing them into my pocket before walking to do the rest of my shopping.

              ***

              Later that day, I found myself relaxing on the couch, watching television. It was nearing six p.m. and time that I should make myself some dinner. I reached down into my pocket and pulled out the blueberries that I had swiped from Goodman’s Friendly Market. “I think I will try mixing you into something. I love how you taste, but I just need something extra to make you perfect.”

              I rose from my seat and made my way to the kitchen. I didn’t have that many choices that I could make quickly with the blueberries unless I wanted to wait until tomorrow to eat them. “I could bake them into a pie.” I shook my head. “No. I want them tonight.” I pulled the pancake batter out of the cupboard. “I know it is dinner, but I am going to treat myself.”

              I started to cook the pancakes, making sure to mix in the blueberries. I used an old frying pan that Carien had given me about a month ago. “Mhmm, they are already smelling good.” I flipped them on the pan to cook them evenly before walking to grab a bottle of water and took a few cool sips. “I can’t believe they wanted to charge twenty-five dollars for these blueberries. It is a bit absurd.” I sighed. “Still, I do feel a bit bad that I took some extra like this. Maybe I will have to do something to make up for this.”

              Steam rose off the pan, and I rushed over to slide my pancakes over onto my plate. “Crap.” The food looked a little burnt but alright. I set the plate on the table and walked back over to the cupboard for the syrup. “This should be the icing on the cake.”

              After letting the syrup fully cover my food, I pulled out a knife and fork and dug in. The first bite was heaven. “Oh my god, this is even better than at the store.” My eyes watered from delicious bite after bite. I couldn’t help but to quickly devour the meal.

              I wiped the syrup from my chin. “Oh my, that was so good. Maybe it did justify the insane price.”

              I stood up and made my way back into the living room.

“Well, I think I will fire up the Gamestation and play some games.” As I sat down on the couch, I couldn’t get the thought of the blueberry pancakes out of my mind. “I remember the taste so vividly it is like they are still in my mouth.”

              I licked my lips. “Wait, I can still taste the juice inside my mouth. That is weird.” As I rubbed my cheeks, I noticed that the back of my palms was turning a dark shade of blue. I lifted my hand from my face and watched as the strange blue color crept out from my fingertips and down my arms. “What is going on?”

              The blue color traveled up my arm and to my torso. From there, it spread all over my body. Down my legs and up towards my head. “This is getting out of hand.” I ran to the kitchen, looking for something, anything to stop the sudden change in my body. But what was there to do? I looked in the mirror as my face slowly turned a dark blue, the whites of my eyes changing in color as well. “This is crazy.” I pulled down my right eyelid. “It is one thing for my skin to turn blue my eyes? Wait, what is happening to my hair?”

              I watched as my black hair dyed itself blue. “Oh, come on. This will take me weeks to get this color out.” I walked over to a nearby chair and slumped down. “I wonder what I am going to tell my boss if this doesn’t come out. Or Carien. She will have a good laugh if she sees me like this. Maybe I will tell people this is a costume. Ya, that is it. I decided to put on a bunch of blue makeup. Ugh.”

              I suddenly felt a filling sensation in my abdomen, and I put my hand over my waist. “That is weird.” I looked down and noticed my belly was expanding. “Oh, don’t tell me I am bloating now on top of being blue. Because, ugh. This doesn’t just feel like I am bloating. I feel like I am filling up with something.” I stood up moved around, feeling strange liquid slosh about in my body.

              “That wasn’t there before. Where is it coming from?” I pulled up my pants as they slid down my expanding waist. “If it doesn’t stop, I will need to go up a few pants sizes. Maybe I should unzip my jeans before I swell anymore.” I reached down, but to my dismay, I couldn’t slip my fingers under my pants. “Ugh, they are stuck and only becoming tighter.”

              The swelling started to affect more than just my stomach; my entire torso began to puff out. My arms were pushed farther and farther away from my chest as more and more juice flooded my body. “This is getting out of hand.”

              The juice rushed into my legs at the same time, and I found it harder to stand. I even felt my legs merging into one singular mass. I leaned over onto the table, barely able to hold up the weight of the juices growing inside of me. “What is happening to me?”

              Then my legs gave out. I fell forward onto my chest. Blueberry juice vibrated throughout my body, pushing itself into parts of my body that it had yet to find itself in, like my hands and feet. I struggled to plant my hands on the ground, trying to push myself up once more. My clothing became like a second skin, almost melding into my body. “Come on.” But try as I might, I was not only too heavy but too round. My arms and legs were no longer long enough to do anything, and moments later, they lifted off the ground as my body become even more spherical. “I am turning into a massive blueberry.”

              I heard my door open.  Oh no. Is that Carien? I can’t let her see me like this.

 “Ms. Collinsworth?”

              That voice. It wasn’t Carien’s. It was the free sample guy from Goodman’s Fridley Market. “What is he doing here? And how did he find where I live?”

              I didn’t have much time to think about it as I continued to swell, my body pushing the couch towards the wall. My body was almost a perfect sphere, my arms and legs having completely vanished except for my hands and feet, which still poked out like tiny stubs. I looked from side to side with my head as I continued to swell. Now that my body had been filled to the brim, I was starting to grow and expand. “I am used to growing but not like this.”

              I saw the young man from the store walk in through the door, and he peered up at me. “Ahh, I see we had a bit too much of the free samples, didn’t we?”

              “What did you do to me?” I felt my squishy body and head press against the ceiling.

              He grabbed my body and spun me so I could see his face. “We have safeguards to avoid people stealing from our store. You would be paying for those blueberries one way or another.”

              I felt my cheeks begin to fill up with juice. “What do you mean?”

              He crossed his arms. “Well, our goods have to come from somewhere. Why do you think our produce sections stay stocked all week long?”

              “I don’t. . .” I shook my head. The blueberry juice had swelled to the point that I could no longer talk.

              “That is ok. When someone tries to steal our food, there is a reaction in their body that well, you are experiencing that reaction right now. Don’t worry, the swelling is almost at an end.” He tapped his hand on my swollen body. “But now comes the fun part. We will squeeze you so you will help stock the shelves of the store for months to come. Don’t worry though, you will survive the process.” He laughed. “Though you may turn blue every now and again.” He laughed once more as he began to push me out of the house, my body miraculously squeezing through the doorframes.

 One thing is for certain. I am never going to Goodman’s Friendly Market again. What is next, they turn me into a watermelon or a giant pineapple?