There was a moment—just barely a moment—in which Elphaba hesitated. It wasn’t anything personal, just old habits, really. People actually helping her wasn’t something that she was used to, and especially not in something as mundane and casual as a supermarket. Nothing so trivial as what cookies (biscuits, this man called them—fascinating voice) to buy.
But then she gingerly took the package from him and looked it over. Chocolate and raspberries. Didn’t sound too bad. “…Thank you,” she said, setting them in the basket as well. (Weird thing it was—dark blue and made of plastic. Plastic really bugged Elphaba). She allowed herself a smile—just a small one, before repeating herself.
“Thank you. You work at the…café, don’t you?” How about that. Elphaba recognized somebody. She’d passed by Teaspoons now and again, but had never gone inside. Maybe she’d try it out.
Of course, if she did, it’d be no doubt that the man in the impeccably pressed suit would recognize her. Elphaba wasn’t exactly easy to forget.