I entered the supermarket on a Sunday for the first time in 5 years. I never shop on Sundays. Sundays are for family and for cooking and for parks and for sleeping all morning and having sex in the couch while a romantic comedy continues on tv. It was 1pm. I couldn't see anyone except for the cashier, bored looking at her nails - they definitely needed some attention. I grabbed her microphone and I said, peacefully, Is there anyone here that wants to keep me company? maybe share a bottle of wine? maybe some sex? The cashier continued to look at her nails.
An old lady come off the yougurt hall and yelled, sadly, my darling, my doctor told me I shouldn't drink wine anymore.
A sexy young girl, mini-skirt and doc martins, grabbed her kind of ugly boyfriend, looked at me from the bread section and said we don't do girls!
An old men said I'll go with you. He bought a bottle of cheap wine and we sat in a bench and we held hands (I've always loved the soft skin of elderly people, so much loose skin, so many wrinkles and small scars and tinny dots, constelations) and he said his wife died last year and I told him that I've been feeling lonely and as we finished the whole bottle his bus showed up and he stood up and said we couldn't have sex because he's out of Viagra and I said it's ok.
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