The moment is supremely embarrassing. Maybe not pants around your ankles in grade school embarrassing, but awkward enough. Rumlow strains to remember, and it makes him feel fucking senile. It's like there's this big void of space where a list ought to be and he hesitantly glances down at Kenzi. How is this happening to him? Why now?

"Think I might've hit my head harder'n I thought," he remarks, sliding his gaze back towards the aisles. "Christ, this is embarrassing. I don't even remember the ingredients I oughta be looking for."

He mutters, though it's plenty loud enough for Kenzi to hear. It's not even like he can just look something up on his phone because once again, he's reminded those don't exist around here. He huffs. The shame starts to wear off and shift into frustration instead, taking steps towards the produce department in hopes something might jog his memory.