Foggy memories

I was standing in line at the supermarket today, buying a prepackaged sandwich and a bottle of tonic water. The Indian cashier deftly swiped people's items under the bar scanner and counted out the change for the customers. "Do you have a Tesco's membership card" he would ask, in a voice that was dutiful but that had tinges of tiredness. I didn't have a card. I had one for the local supermarkets in Boston, but they actually worked to make things cheaper. The ones here just give you coupons. But somewhere between his question and me reaching for my wallet it hit me. I couldn't remember then name of the supermaket in Beverly that I always used to go to. I stood there, staring in space at the horror of the realization that I could not remember a place that I had interacted with for 3 years. The same place that was filled with memories of times that I had gone there with friends, preparing for parties or meals or just having conversations with apartment mates as we walked the aisles looking for essentials. And I could not remember the name. Finally it came to me, 'Shaws'. But it had forgotten it. Maybe only for a second, but it had happened and it terrified me. "That will be 1.90 please. Sir?" I counted out the money.