10.2.25


Amos Bronson Alcott  1799 –1888
                                      he was repeating a quote of his to himself as he groceryshopped  Our dreams drench us in sense, and sense steep us again in dreams.
he really liked it
                  distracted  he cutsharp past an endcap nearly rocking a woman employee walking up the aisle he enteredgrabbed her by the arms so he didnt bowl her overdrop her on her back
You okay
   I am I am I’m sorry.

Im sorry though looking into her hand her cellphone yaoughta watch where youre driving

chuckled
          Yeah. Suppose I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.

But youre okay

I am, yes, thank you.   I’m okay.

Then off ya go he glanced at her breast Violet stitched in the apron Violet
                                                                           A story behind tha huh
she smiled mischievously liked her dimples There is.

he released her

she moved away dazed like a trout freed from a hook
                                                            Ill seeya around
quicklook over her shoulder said  Likely.

 

Ahshit
        he liked going to cashiers  disliked the Self Checkout 
but there were two extremely long lines

the people in them had one thing in common

they had beer booze  Super Bowl
not allowed through Self Checkout

but this is where corporate coercion falls flat
                                               while it rather people use Self Checkout it fails to realise their alcohol rules force people to stand in long lines and either havent the personnel to run cash registers or arent interested in opening lanes opening fresh cashdrawers that have to be counted at closing

MOTTO   THEY CAN WAIT people need their groceries

Ahshit a second time Self Checkout  Sounds like suicide

he hadnt liquour

   he was coerced

set his grocery bag on narrow shelf thighhigh to the left of the scanner thighhigh to the right was a long aluminum table after careful stacking twenty cans of catfood he balanced on a book that he would have to scan individually  cashiers scanned one variety entered 4 scanned the next entered 4  a breeze  he wasnt going to be breezy  

no sooner than he set the book on the table the machine reprimanded him actually said Unrecognised product. Remove it to continue. terse  muttered Fuckin machine under his breath he didnt get into an argument with it removed it to the floor at his feet there wasnt room anywhere else

before he began laboriously tediously  scanning  he looked up at the two lines
                                                                                     they were longer
he committed
scanning 

progress

completed the catfood

produce
         laid Anaheim peppers on the scale  scanner screen showed eight pictures of vegetables  no peppers  beneath the pictures was written  Enter item with alphabet pad.
it wasnt QWERTY under his breath KahRist 

the machine did not recognise Anaheim

over his shoulder a voice   Excuse me.
heard that voice before
                        turned slightly  that hair  either red dyed blonde blonde dyed red
Violet  he said

We meet again. Let me help.
                              she Backspaced voiding his entryrapped the eight pictured screen  another set of vegetable pictures appearedrapped the Anaheim pepper picture
This machine has a bit of a personality.

Don they all

there was that dimplepit smile again
                                        I believe you’re off an running again . . .
Im Joe

Joe.  Nice to meet you.

Happy New Year

It’s February.

Its my first opportunity to wish you one

she smiled That’s true he was growing fond of her smile  Happy New Year to you.

Thank you

Think you got it from here?

Few more produce I can be a fast learner if I like cartoned items  I think Im cool

   Cool.
         Who says that?
You

that mischievous smile
                          Violet walked away

this time he watched her go
                              nice ass
accentuated by the dangling ends of her knotted apron tie thumping it
                                                                           slim waist

 

FINISH AND PAY was the prompt

HOW MANY STORE BAGS?

rapped 0

Machine voice Pay with coins first, then bills.

debitcard
           tapped the screen entered his PIN placed his bag beside his groceries
bent over

picked up his book

set it on the table

started bagging

Error. machine voice

Whafuckin error  under his breath

Error. it repeated as if it heard him

Violets voice waft over his shoulder
                                      We have to stop meeting like this.
Where would you like to meet
her laughter tickled his ear
                              Your book, it’s your book.

It doesnt like Bolanos Twentysixsixtysix

It gummedup the works doesn’t recognise it.

I paid

No receipt. See. It’s refused to process your payment.
                                                          Let me help.
she had to scan her IDcard which hung from a lanyard

she leaned against him
                           Awdammit.
stood up stripped off her ID
                              I’m forever forgetting I have to press my ID to the screen to be scanned.
leaned against him

scanned down her blouse Jesus he thought

accepted her ID

she entered some number on the keypad

it was a long number

You’re special.

Special
         Like a retard
No. made a face  that frankly looked retarded
Don make that face

What?

Nothing

   Special. In thatI’d bet a day’s wages . . . you haven’t used Self Checkout a half dozen times . . anywhere. They’ve been around for years.

I havent I don much care for their personalities
                                                   A mutual HATE HATE relationship
Hate hate?

I hate it it hates me hatehate

the machine spit out his receipt

There you have it. You’re good to go.
                                       By the bye  By the time you pack your groceries I’ll have punched out for break
We could meet in my car

Love to

 

crossing the warm tarmacked parking lot  she parked remote
                                                                  Your hair
My hair?

It is blonde streaked red or red streaked blonde

Play your cards right you might find out.

 

it was a stationwagon    Awman I love your car    Thank you.    she unlocked the drivers side swung the door open threw her apron on the seat
                               Plant your groceries there.
she shut the door

opened the passenger door seats were collapsed
                                                     You first.
he crawled in turned to face her she crawled in he didnt scan  blouse was unbuttoned

 

 

he didnt find out

she was a tease

saw an esthetician

afternoon,  Wednesday,  5  2. 25
1345,  Monday,  10  2. 25

What are you reading?

Irish John McGahern  The Pornographer

Comparing yourself or learning at his knee?

Excuse me

You’re a pornographer.

I am not

Ohplease . . . you write about sex you certainly talk about it.

And politics an religion an equal opportunity offender an wha appears to meappeals to me in any given moment  Hence pen tucked over my ear if paper not in a book a piece folded in my pocket

Yacant take me anywhere not social gatherings Im guaranteed to offend an usually in very short order 

Its a talent

But you write about se . .
. . Love  Flirtation   Admiration Desire
                                                Not denying sex
You write graphically about it.      

   Sometimes
                   More often its nuanced
Nuanced. 
          You write about fucking.

I write about imagined  fucking   the way artists use white space
                                                                       Lead the reader up to the edge letem decide if they want to jump  to jump in
Imagine

I hint sexuality

   But you don know because you don read me an therefore assume

I imagine you write like you talk.

Ya don imagine  Ive toldya tha

Have you?

I have
           Im not a pornographer
I write about animated inanimate things spiders cats
                                                        I write about a leaf floating on a pool surface casting a shadow on the bottomwhich looks like a turtle  an as the sun lowers in the sky the leaf drifting towards the end the shadow-turtle climbing the side until it surfacesemerges a turtle   that crawls away into garden beds

 

 

 

What am I supposed to say about that?

Nothing

1040,  Sunday,  9  2. 25
1134,  Monday,  10  2. 25