June 18th- Grocery Store Duty by April Valentine

March, 2020

Starsky and Hutch are two detectives in the Bay City P.D., Metro Division, in their mid-30s. They are partners on the street and off.

“I know you work homicide! But it’s crazy out there,” Captain Dobey bellowed at the roomful of detectives. “Everybody’s on supermarket duty – as of now! So get your butts out there!” He made a sweeping gesture that included everyone else in the squad room, then returned to his office, slamming the door behind him.

It was kind of crazy, Hutch had to admit. They’d noticed how full the parking lots of the stores were on their way into Metro this morning. The news and social media were full of speculation about the new disease that was affecting other countries and was reportedly on its way to the United States. It was something new and deadly, with no cure and more questions than answers. Everyone was feeling anxious and people had become fearful of shortages, seemingly overnight. So Dobey’s plan was to make sure there weren’t actual riots by assigning everyone to the local grocery stores to help out.

In the squad, sheepish looks were exchanged. Before anyone could blame Starsky and Hutch for the captain’s latest tirade, Starsky grabbed his partner’s arm and shoved him toward the door.

“Hey!” Hutch protested.

Starsky pushed the swinging doors open with his left hand, while propelling Hutch through them with his right. Once in the corridor, he spoke.

“Did ya see the way the guys were lookin’ at us? They were about to get on our case because’a Dobey’s yellin’!”

“Our case?” Hutch squawked as they left the building and headed toward the parking lot. “You were the one that was all ‘we’re detectives, we’re needed for murder investigations’. Not me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t hear you disagreein’,” Starsky groused as he dug his keys out of the pocket of his tight jeans. He knew that at most, his partner’s argument was just for show. It’s what they did. Bickering was just part of their day, the way they did things. So many of the other cops told them they acted like an old married couple it wasn’t even a joke any more.

Hutch settled his lanky frame into the passenger seat of the red 2019 Mustang that his partner had personalized with a wide white stripe along both sides, and as soon as Starsky turned the key, he pushed the button that lowered his side window. “Well, it is a beautiful day, Starsk,” he said, glancing up at the cloudless Bay City sky. “Would you rather be looking at blood stains and picking shells out of walls or going to Ralph’s to make sure people aren’t hoarding toilet paper?”

Starsky’s driving picked up speed. “I’d rather be fighting actual crime, buddy boy.”

“Tell me that the next time you run out of T.P.” Hutch laughed.

“Nobody’s runnin’ out of toilet paper. That’s the just the media hypin’ things up,” Starsky informed him as they neared the Ralph’s market Dobey had assigned them to.

“I don’t know, Starsk,” Hutch answered. “You know how people are. They get scared when this kind of thing happens. It’s a new disease nobody knows anything about. They see what’s goin’ on in China and Europe. They want to be prepared.”

“I guess,” Starsky agreed reluctantly. “This new Corona-whatever is bein’ talked about everywhere.”

“That’s why they call it a ‘global’ pandemic,” Hutch pointed out. “It’s going to be everywhere, all over the globe. Scary stuff.”

“I guess so. People get scared of what they don’t understand,” Starsky nodded as he put on his turn signal.

The parking lot was packed, Hutch noted as they turned into the lot. Instead of looking for a space, Starsky pulled the Mustang right up into the pick up lane, turning on his lights. For good measure, Hutch placed the blinking red light atop the car.

As they were climbing out, loud voices could be heard at the entrance.

“That’s mine, I tell you! Mine!”

“I saw it first! And you’ve got plenty in your cart anyway!”

Two women who looked to be in their 40s were struggling over an extra large package of Charmin that neither wanted to let go.

“Ladies, ladies,” Hutch said, moving up to them. He smiled, planning on using his nice-guy charm to try to defuse the argument. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

“That’s mine!” the woman with dark hair shouted, taking that moment to yank the package out of her opponent’s hand. She slammed it into her cart and began pushing it toward the parking lot.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Starsky physically blocked her way. He grabbed the front of her cart and leaned toward her. “Now it looks to me as though both of you have plenty. Unless somebody at home has diarrhea, nobody needs to buy that much.”

“Well, that’s the most insulting thing I’ve ever heard!” the woman yelled back at him, attempting to yank her cart from Starsky’s grasp.

“Look lady,“ Hutch said, dropping his pretense of diplomacy and showing her his badge. “We told you, you’ve both got plenty.” He appropriated the giant pack of Charmin from the cart himself. “If neither of you paid for this, you can leave it here. So unless one of you wants to get a ticket for shoplifting, you both can go on your way home.”

Fuming, neither of the women had anything more to say. Starsky let go of the cart and the women stormed past them.

The detectives exchanged a puzzled look. “I’m beginning to think Dobey was right,” Starsky said.

“I’m beginning to agree with you,” Hutch nodded, putting his hand on his partner’s shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze.

Together they entered the grocery store.

A harried looking man was standing near the door, pleading with customers not to buy so much, entreating them to leave something for other customers. Noting the name badge he wore, Starsky and Hutch walked up to him.

“Are you the manager?” Starsky asked, reaching for his badge.

The man nodded, looking more distressed as he acknowledged the question. “I’m Fred Emerson.”

Hutch showed his own badge as well. “We were sent out to help with any problems.”

Emerson, whose brow was damp with sweat, heaved a sigh. “Thanks, but I don’t think sending two cops is gonna do much good.”

“What’s the basic problem?” Starsky asked, ignoring the manager’s negativity.

“The problem? The problem is my idiot customers are trying to fit the whole damn store into their carts! There’s no reason to start hoarding! But they won’t listen!”

Neither Hutch nor Starsky had a good response to that statement. They could hear loud voices coming from every part of the store as shoppers yelled and argued.

“We’ll do what we can,” Hutch said in his best mollifying voice. Together with Starsky, he turned to head into the fray.

“Yeah, right,” Starsky muttered as the two of them took in the chaos. They had faced down whole gangs of armed criminals, but they weren’t trained to handle irate shoppers.

Their eyes met as they stood in the center of the store, between the refrigerated section and the paper products. Both of them still had their badges in hand. Starsky gave Hutch a pointed look and raised his left hand high, waving his badge for all to see.

“All right, everybody! Listen up!” he announced, “this is the BCPD. Stop yellin’ and fightin’ over food and toilet paper, right now!”

A sudden silence fell as the customers stopped in their tracks and gazed at the two cops in surprise.

“That’s right,” Hutch chimed in. “Nobody can take more than their fair share. Yes, there’s a new disease that’s out there. Everybody is scared. But that’s no reason to…“ he stopped just short of saying “lose your mind” and continued with “start hoarding. There will be enough for everyone if you just buy what you need.”

“They say we’ll have to start staying home,” one woman spoke up. There were two crying toddlers in her cart, along with several cases of baby food and huge packages of toilet paper. “We won’t be able to come out and shop in another week!”

Hutch nodded, realizing that she was concerned. “Yes, ma’am and if that happens, you will still be able to shop online.”

“I’m buyin’ what I want and you can’t stop me!” a tall, lanky guy in his early twenties piped up, attempting to shove his cart, laden with hand sanitizer and bacterial wipes, past Starsky. “I’m gonna make a fortune selling these!”

“Wait just one lovely minute there.” Starsky stuck his foot out, stopping the cart’s movement. “You’re planning on price gouging?” His eyes went to Hutch’s.

Hutch stepped closer to the younger man’s cart. “Yes, it’s not such a good idea to admit you’re planning on committing a crime.” He took a ticket book out of his back pocket and flourished a pen.

The guy turned a stubborn gaze on the cops. Ducking his head, he muttered, “Just the American way…”

Hutch was undeterred. “Unless you put all of that back, we can run you downtown right now.”

That caused the man to change his tune. “All right. Geez, nobody can make a buck these days.”

Surprisingly, the woman with the toddlers was on Starsky and Hutch’s side. “Yeah, go put that stuff back,” she told him, “get a real job!”

A few of the patrons actually clapped.

“Okay, that’s more like it,” Starsky told them approvingly. “Now, everybody, start doing the right thing here. Okay?”

It was a long day at the Ralph’s, but Starsky and Hutch were able to encourage most shoppers not to hoard and to stop arguing with other shoppers. Hutch wasn’t sure if their brother cops had been as successful.

“Just heard on the news,” the store manager said, coming up to them at closing time. “Most stores are completely out of toilet paper and lots of other stuff. There have been a number of arrests for fighting and shop-lifting. You guys really did help a lot here.” Mr. Emerson glanced forlornly at his empty shelves. “I mean, at least you stopped actual fights from happening.”

“Just doing our jobs,” Hutch told him, modestly.

“I have a feeling this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better,” Starsky said, holding out a shopping basket.

“Whatcha got there, Starsk?” Hutch peered into the basket. All it contained was some ground meat and a box of Cheerios.

“I wanted to grab us a coupla steaks for tonight,” his partner said sadly.

“Let me check the freezer,” the manager told them. “There must be something in there. It’s the least I can do after your help today.”

“Thanks, Mr. Emerson,” Starsky said, “but we can’t take freebies.”

“Oh, you’re going to pay for it,” Emerson told him with a grin.

Later that night, sitting in Hutch’s greenhouse, full from the t-bones that Mr. Emerson had found in his store’s freezer, they sat side by side, thighs touching.

“What a day,” Starsky said, “I’m pooped. How do those cops that work crowd control all the time do this?”

Hutch, who’d been scanning the news on his cell phone, just shrugged. “I don’t know, Starsk. I guess there’s worse things.”

“What’s the news sayin’?” his partner asked, leaning his head against Hutch’s shoulder.

“That sometime next week, the governor could start implementing stay at home orders. Unless someone has what they call an ‘essential job’, everybody is going to be asked to stay at home. No wonder people were trying to buy up everything they could lay their hands on.” He shook his head. “Starsk, this is unheard of. Quarantining a whole country? How’s that going to even work? And look at this – over in Italy, they’re using churches as morgues.” He turned the phone in Starsky’s direction so he could see. “This could get bad.”

“Yeah, I heard they’re going to close schools and malls too,” Starsky informed him.

Hutch continued scrolling through his phone. Starsky reached out and took it from him.

“We got the internet. A lotta people can work from home these days,” Starsky told him.

“Well, cops can’t,” Hutch sighed. “We’re the essential workers.”

“Too bad,” Starsky said, lifting his head to gaze up at him. “Might be nice to be quarantined with you.” He leaned up to kiss the full lips he never tired of.

“Mmmmnn,” Hutch responded, deepening the kiss. Moments later, when they had come up for air, he went on. “Might have to start wearing protective gear on the streets.”

Starsky waggled his eyebrows. “You mean condoms?”

“Rubber gloves and face masks, mushbrain,” Hutch corrected him, leaning down for another kiss. He didn’t want to think of this new coronavirus right now. All he wanted to think about was getting his partner in his arms and making love to him until they both forgot there was a world outside, pandemic or not.

An hour later, Hutch stretched and sighed, his body still enjoying the afterglow. His hand slid across the bed in search of his partner. The space where Starsky should be was empty though.

He was just about to call his name when Starsky yelled out, “Oh, no!”

“What’s the matter, Starsk?” Hutch responded, wondering what the problem was. Armed intruders? Bay City lost the game? No dessert in the fridge?

“We spent all day in that grocery story, and I forgot we were out of toilet paper! I just finished off our last roll!”

Hutch groaned and rolled over. “We’ll get some tomorrow, babe,” he called out. Even if we have to get it at gunpoint, he thought drowsily, stifling a chuckle — though he hoped that wouldn’t have to be the case. Who knew what was going to happen next?

“There are lots of alternatives,” he called out, knowing Starsky wouldn’t want to hear about Earth-friendly substitutes for toilet paper.

“I am not usin’ corn cobs or catalogues or – or whatever those ‘Save The Earth’ blogs you follow think works!”

“We’ll find some,” Hutch shouted back, smiling at the expected response from his partner. “Now get back in here with me! I’m lonely!”

“Inna minute,” Starsky responded and Hutch could hear him walking quickly back to the bedroom. “But don’t think you’re gonna keep me up all night, Blintz,” he said, diving into the bed and snuggling up against Hutch’s body. “We need to rest up. Dobey might give us grocery store duty again tomorrow!”

Hutch wanted to tell him that at least they’d be more likely to be able to buy more T.P. if that happened, but his retort was smothered by Starsky’s eager kiss.