There must, must be something I can buy.
It's obvious, it's that simple, it's obviously that simple.
I'll go buy something.
Here I go!
A cheese grater, dishwasher safe, wonderful! Then I will need to buy some cheese. That way I can grate some cheese. And I'll slice some tomatoes.
I'll buy some tomatoes. And a tomato slicer.
Trojan Twister??? Why not? Put it in the cart.
A shopping cart! Holy Jesus, how many things could I do with that? I wonder if they'll sell me it. I could...
"Hey you. What are you doing?" He had appeared from nowhere, from some other aisle, dressed so fresh and so clean. "Oh, hey. I, ah, I'm
shopping," I stammered, was flustered, embarrassed, nonchalantly sort of stuffed the Trojans down the back on my jeans.
"What are you getting?" Nosy me, curious me, I looked in his cart, poked around. His cart was half-packed, mostly with food, but there was a couple
of interesting non-perishable items.
"What's this?" I asked, picking it up, looking at it.
"You know," He said.
"Well, of course I know," I said laughing, I put it back down, "Why wouldn't I know?"
"How couldn't you?" He laughed.
We, everyone, was laughing and ignorant, but acting smart and looking good, so....
"You look great," I said, just out of the blue, out of the clear blue Tuesday, I just went ahead and said it.
"Well thank you," He smiled, he stood there, and I could describe him, how he looked standing, but I wouldn't be able to describe his smile. He
made people glad to see him, very much.
More than glad, I feel lucky, fortunate, which is kind of strange. He makes up for a lot of things.
(The shiny whiny dissatisfied club [SWDC] held it's first meeting on Tuesday, but the cookies were stale. Hardly anyone showed up. The weather
"Look at that!" I said, exclaimed, finger out, pointing and mouth slightly gaped.
An electric blanket, beige and on sale, just sitting there, waiting, half-price.
He wasn't as impressed, not as, not into it I guess, we were shopping together, side by side, strolling slowly along the enchanted aisles.
I grabbed two of the electric blankets, quickly, a beige one and a light green one, put them in my cart, just think.
"Have you ever slept in silk sheets?" I asked.
"They're wonderful," He smiled. We were near the plates and frying pans.
I stopped, looked, put a couple of plates in my cart, round plates, real round and shiny. "Everything's so clean." I said.
("Attention shoppers - There is a Blue Tuesday in the parking lot, with its lights on, with its engine running, blowing its horn with the ashtray
full, and now.... now look... It's all flying away...")
"Do you remember..." He began, while we were tramping through the clothes of many colors, "...Do you remember when I was a big brown Collie, and
everyday I used to wait for you to come home from school, I'd sit and wait at the bus stop."
"I remember," Grin, grinning, I found and grabbed a nice pair of jeans, casual, should probably see if they fit, try them on, but if they don't fit
me they're bound to fit someone. "And you," I said, "Do you remember when I was a thin plastic coaster, and I'd stick to the bottom of your
glass? I'd stick until you got the glass about half-way to your mouth, then I'd fall off, and sometimes I'd fall in your lap."
"I remember," He laughed, grinned.
"But I must say," I said, I must have said, "I like you much better now, now that you're you."
"How come?" He asked, puzzled eyes.
"You have much better breath."
"Well, thank you, but can I be honest?"
"Of course," I demanded.
"I miss my coaster,"
We were entering then into the long and crisp underwear aisles, dangerous place, my thoughts...
(Listen: Learn to
Live on an empty stomach
Try not to sleep
Is stealing your precious things
Is creeping up behind you...)
"Why are you getting so much stuff?" He asked.
He walked along, he walked right by without even noticing the Microfiber Wonder Rag.
I, of course, noticed.
"Why?" I was now on my third cart, I had them hooked together with chains, I put the Microfiber Wonder Rag on top of the women's bikini panties (48
Why WAS I getting so much stuff? I stopped to think about it, stopped all three carts, just to answer him, because I loved answering him, I liked him
very much him asking questions.
'So why?' I thought, I asked myself in thought. 'Because women love to shop?' Too easy, too general, doesn't explain me in the specific now.
'Because I don't feel good?' Close, that's definitely close, probably part of the answer. But I haven't felt very good for over a year, maybe
two, and I haven't been going out shopping all the time, and why now? Something more, still something more. 'Because I want to be more like them?'
That's definitely close, closer, very much part of the why, the how come. It's been building up. I've felt so extremely different for so long.
He was stopped and waiting patiently for an answer, waiting buff with very brown eyes. I was stopped and looking up at the lights way up high near the
ceiling, my head thrown back, trying to think of that answer, figure it out, trying to think how to explain what he wanted to understand. We were
stopped and blocking the aisle. All three of my carts were just standing there, not really thinking much, just resting their wheels.
"Get out of the way, you doomsday freak!" It was a huge woman with red red cheeks, glaring heat, fat in a fat flowered housecoat, with six or seven
ugly children crawling over her like lice and whining for candy. ("Give us candy! We want candy! Give us candy!")
I was scared.
I pulled my carts ahead and over to the right, but I moved too fast and the third cart, the one filled with potting soil and dog food, was too heavy.
It slid out of control and nailed him, nailed my friend, knocked him flying into the shampoos and rinses.
(There's still time,
It's still Tuesday
There's still time
It's still Tuesday
There's still time...)
"You're sure you're okay?" I asked, feeling dreadfully bad. "I'm fine," He was sticky, some of the green apple shampoos had burst open and
soaked him, but luckily everything is made of plastic these days, no broken glass, no contusions.
"You smell nice," I said. I like Green Apple.
A look he gave me worth a thousand words.
We were standing in line at the check-out counter, we were done shopping, we were checking out.
"Hello," said the guy standing at the register.
"Hello," I said.
His eyes scanning through my many carts, "That's quite a bit of stuff there."
Behind me I saw my friend shaking his sticky head.
"I just like buying things," I said.
"Cool," the guy thought I was cool, getting all that stuff. He checked out my boobs.
Out of the store we rolled our carts, I was becoming weary and poor, like everyone else.
"So, you take care of yourself," I said to him, by way of good-bye.
He smiled and said he would, he said that he always has.
Behind me a voice.
I turned and saw a middle aged man with thin hair, in a thin suit, he was approaching me.
"Excuse me, ma'am. I was wondering if you have anything under your shirt, perhaps something stuffed down your jeans?"