Tatum hadn't even been all that close to the front of the store, where the cashiers waited patiently (or impatiently depending who you asked) at their registers for all of the customers to line up in an orderly fashion. The redhead had instead been half way down an aisle of canned goods, squinting between one can of soup versus another, silently weighing one against the other and trying to decide if she really needed either one.
Her shopping basket, clutched in a death-grip in her right hand, currently contained a couple of cans of cat food, a bottle of orange juice, a bag of Oreos, and a bag of corn chips. Where she spent extravagantly elsewhere, buying the latest video games and her own personal drugs, her grocery list was as pathetic as the one bedroom apart she brought the groceries back to. She liked fast meals, and even then, she wasn't home all that much, quite frankly. She got high and ate at fast food joints more often than not. It didn't make much sense to spend more than fifty bucks on groceries for her apartment, which was exactly how she ended having Sophie's Choice moments over something stupid like soup, every time that she went out shopping at the beginning of the month.
If she was only spending a few bucks, she wanted to spend it well.
She was unaware of any of the ruckus going on at the registers, but the outburst at the front of the store at least provided her a distraction from staring at cans of Campbell's any longer. Especially when she realized that she was pretty sure that she recognized the raised voice, shouting something about not being contagious, for whatever reason. Weird. Sometimes Tatum forgot that the girls at the Red Door very much existed outside of the Red Door.
It was where she saw them all most often though, the area and safe space that she associated them with, and so whenever she saw one out on the street in the plain light of day, it was a bit of a shock. Seeing girls from the brothel outside of the brothel, off the stage, was akin to seeing a dog walk on it's hind legs for a few steps. Especially this girl. Teagan was, unsurprisingly to her, a particular sight to behold in public. Once Tatum placed the voice confidently, confidently enough to warrant peeking out from the end of her own aisle, it was just in time to see Teagan thanking the cashier and making a beeline for the cosmetics section. Looking, Tatum thought, pretty pleased with herself.
Tatum took a long moment watching her disappear around the corner, those boots especially. She didn't look dressed to be out of the brothel, not that Tatum was complaining. She wore enough clothes for both of them, denim and layers even in the Nevada heat. November wasn't too hot, at least.
The redhead didn't know what the fuck that whole exchange between Teagan and the worker had even been about, though the woman that had been in line behind Teagan was now speaking to the cashier in hushed tones and with a worried look, but it didn't really matter. She liked Teagan, to be quite honest, and she was sure that she wouldn't have raised her voice if it wasn't necessary. Teagan was sort of like that, on the level nearly to a fault. She tried to act so human, it came off as a little robotic to Tatum, but it was the effort that counted, and the polite thing to do was to go and say 'hello' to her properly. She didn't have anything to give the other girl, she always tried to bring her a little something if she was coming by the Door even if it was just a piece of junk that would fascinate no one but Teagan, but she hoped that wouldn't matter too much.
In the makeup aisle, she found Teagan examining a set of fake lashes, and she was careful to announce herself before just sneaking up on her. She hated when people did that shit to her, and tried to actively avoid doing it to others. "Hey," she greeted her simply instead, from a couple of feet away. Her free hand lifting for a weak wave, her other hand still clutching her plastic shopping basket. "W-What's up? I m-mean, other t-than.. s-shopping, obviously. Or w-whatever." Real smooth.