It’s not fun when you can’t poop.

Since Byulyi started her new job, her bowel regularity has gone out of the window.

It’s a vicious cycle: changing routines lead to stress, which leads to more constipation, which leads to discomfort, which leads to being unable to concentrate at work, which leads to more stress, which leads to more constipation.

What a disaster. She has to break the cycle somehow.

This is why Byulyi is spending her Friday night strolling through the supermarket instead of going out with her friends or relaxing at home.

She is a woman with a mission.

Here are the items she put in her cart so far: three cans of beans; a packet of dried prunes; a box of wheat bran; two heads of broccoli; two pounds of kiwi fruit and an assortment of herbal teas. If all of this doesn’t do the trick, then all she’s got left is making a sacrifice to the poop gods… or going to see a doctor.

And Byulyi really doesn’t like doctors, so better pray that at least some of this stuff works.

What else does she need? Maybe milk will help, she thinks as she heads to the dairy aisle. Which type will work best, though? Whole, skim, lactose-free, goat, plant-based? Byulyi is staring at the shelves, confused by the far too vast array of choices, when suddenly she feels a hand touching her shoulder.

She turns around, and what she sees stuns her. The woman in front of her is totally gorgeous, even though her hair is tied up in a messy bun and she’s only wearing a pair of leggings and an old hoodie. And then, the woman speaks, and Byulyi feels weak in the knees.

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but look inside your cart. It’s a cart that tells a story,” the woman says with laughter in her eyes. “I’m really passionate about bowel health, maybe I can be of assistance? I hope you don’t mind.”

The sound of her voice sends shivers down Byulyi’s spine. I wonder if her singing voice is as good, is Byulyi’s first instinctual thought before she actually processes the woman’s words. And then, she realizes this stunning creature that she just met already knows all about her embarrassing aliment.

Blood rushes to her cheeks.

“I… I’m…” Byulyi stutters, aware that her face is on fire. This awareness itself does nothing to alleviate the blushing.

In fact, it worsens it. She’s perfect and I’m a blushing constipated mess.

The woman saves her. “Look, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! It can happen to everyone – it happens to me too, that’s why I know so much about it. When I was younger, before I started researching about it, I was only able to poop once a week. If I was lucky, that was.”

Ok, Byulyi quickly reasons, she might be stunning but she’s also pretty weird. She’s talking about her pooping problems to a complete stranger in a supermarket.

But Byulyi likes weird. Plus, she really needs all the help she can get.

“So, what do you advise?” Byulyi is finally able to form a complete sentence.

The woman responds by grabbing her wrist. “Come with me,” she says, and leads Byulyi further down the dairy aisle, before Byulyi has time to be shocked at the sudden intimacy of the gesture.

“Have you tried greek yogurt?” the woman asks.

“Not really. Is it helpful?”

“Are you kidding me? Much better than milk! It’s the single most effective thing in the world – unless you want to try laxatives, but I don’t advise you to go down that route unless your situation is… uhm, desperate.”

“I’m not… I’m not quite there yet, I think,” Byulyi replies, still finding it funny that her new acquaintance is talking so freely about bowel movements, but deciding to just go with the flow. It’s easy to talk to her, even if the subject matter is odd.

“I even make my own greek yogurt at home,” the woman smiles, satisfied with herself.

“Wow, that’s next level,” Byulyi says, half amused, half charmed. “So which one should I get?”

“Here.” The woman grabs a huge plastic container from the top shelf. “This is my favorite brand.”

Byulyi fights a shiver. Is it because of the cold air in the refrigerated dairy aisle, or because her hand brushes the woman’s as she takes the yogurt container from her?

“Well, thanks.” They smile at each other. A friendly, if a bit awkward silence falls between them for a couple of seconds.

“Are you done with your shopping? I need to go get some fruit and veggies, I think.” The woman says. Is that a hint of an invitation in her question? Byulyi doesn’t lose a single second. “Oh, I need to grab some stuff from that section as well. Let’s walk together?”

Byulyi sees the woman glance at the kiwi fruits and broccoli already in her cart. She knows that she knows. The woman knows that Byulyi knows that she knows. Neither of them cares.

They share a mischievous smile.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“I’m Yongsun.”

“Nice to meet you, Yongsun. I’m Byulyi.”

-

Yongsun and Byulyi spend the next two hours walking aimlessly through the supermarket. It’s more of a stroll than a grocery run.

What this really looks like is… a date, Byulyi thinks. Except we’re both wearing loungewear and no make-up and we’re dragging shopping carts around.

Oh well, I’ve had worse dates than this.

Byulyi confirms her first impression that Yongsun is easy and fun to talk to. They talk about everything, naturally progressing from “so how come you’re having trouble pooping” to Byulyi’s new job, then to Yongsun’s job, then to their hobbies, then to their friends, then to their families, then to their childhoods, then to their feelings about life in general in this crazy universe.

I want to keep talking to her forever, Byulyi thinks, it’s like we’ve known each other for years.

Before they know it, they hear an announcement that the supermarket is going to close in 15 minutes, and all clients are to conclude their shopping and head to checkout.

They keep chatting as they’re waiting in the checkout queue, then Yongun pays for her stuff first and waits for Byulyi near the exit.

As Byulyi is handing her card to the cashier, she sneaks a glance at Yongsun and she sees her scribbling something on a piece of paper.

They both put their bags down and stand near the exit for a couple of minutes, neither of them ready to say goodbye just yet.

When the supermarket clerks start gently ushering them out, Yongsun hands Byulyi the piece of paper.

“My number. Call me if the greek yogurt doesn’t work, ok? We’ll think of something else.”

“Can I call you even if it works? To give you the good news?” Byulyi laughs.

“Of course. Especially then. We could go out to celebrate,” Yongsun replies with a bright smile.

-

Two years later

There’s too much light in the room to keep sleeping. Byulyi yawns and stretches her arms, not wanting to leave the warmth of the duvet.

On the other hand, she is upset to find, upon waking up, that her girlfriend is not there. Byulyi wants her morning snuggles, and apparently she’s not going to get any if she stays in bed.

She’s about to get out of bed to go find Yongsun, when her girlfriend enters their bedroom, precariously balancing a heavy tray in her hands.

“Oh, you’re awake! Morning, sleepyhead. Happy anniversary.”

“Yong,” Byulyi whined, “you weren’t here when I woke up! That's a bad way to wake up on your anniversary.”

“Wait a sec,” Yongsun places the tray on her own nightstand and raised the duvet to sit next to her girlfriend. “I’m gonna kiss you all better,” she says, Byulyi’s hair.

Byulyi props herself up, impatient. They both move towards each other until their lips meet. They share a slow good morning kiss.

“Happy anniversary, babygirl,” Byulyi mutters back against Yongsun’s lips.

They keep kissing softly for a few minutes until Byulyi playfully bites on Yongsun’s lower lip.

“Ouch,” the older complains. “If you keep at it, you’re not gonna get your special anniversary breakfast," she threatens jokingly.

“Please,” the younger responds. “I’m starving. If you don’t feed me soon, I’m gonna have to eat you out.”

“Fine. But only because I can hear your stomach rumbling and it’s a turn off,” Yongsun laughs, and turns around to get the tray and carefully places it on Byulyi’s lap.

“Wow, you really outdid yourself.” Byulyi looks down at her breakfast, chuckling at the sight of one particular item. “I’m never gonna be able to finish all this stuff by myself. Share with me?”

Byulyi and Yongsun spend what’s left of their morning in bed, laughing and enjoying each other as they share a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a glass of orange juice, a plate of scrambled eggs, a stack of chocolate pancakes… and a big bowl of greek yogurt.