How am I supposed to forget about the frogs? They were lined up along the upright freezers. It started, I suppose, because frogs can’t make plans. It’s the small brain. Don’t say “unevolved” — that brain does exactly what the frogs need it to do. But the problem was they may have had a leader for just a few moments. A momentary blip in cognition in one frog skittered down the brains of a few other frogs, and before you knew it, a whole marsh’s worth of frogs had hopped their way through the automatic doors and came to an abrupt halt in the freezer section, where, presumably, the temperature was too low for further cognitive activity.
We only had a few customers in the store when it happened. Though one poor customer did become hysterical and began screaming about a plague of frogs. Justin managed to calm them down with a free gift card and kindly arranged for a taxi to take them to another location across town. I heard someone else complain that this is what you get when you build grocery stores next to marshes. The cashier agreed, and the two had a brief—but vehement—discussion about the evilness of corporations.
Then there was me, alone in the freezer section with a sweet woman in her late twenties who definitely didn’t work with us. She was crouched down, moving in a strange little squat-waddle down the aisle, counting every frog. Her finger didn’t touch a single frog, but as she counted, each one hopped away. Justin rigged the automatic doors so they didn’t accidentally crush any amphibians.
“Only 84,” said the woman sadly, as we watched the last frog disappear into the parking lot. “Last time, there were 113.”
Title Credit: @conceptsbot (Nov 15, 2021)
