I was in the all night grocery store at 2 AM a few nights ago, just there for one thing but hell, when can I get out of there with one thing?
Grab some milk, bread, see some pretty eggplant and have a sudden urge to light that biatch and photograph it. Goes into the basket.
Get to the register and this dude at the counter, he asks me what I’m doing grocery shopping so late at night.
I’m quite stunned that someone has the nerve to ask me something like that. I’m not a bitch so I didn’t ask for his manager.
Besides, I like settling my own problems.
What I’m doing…
A million things cross my mind and not a single one of them is the truth. I didn’t owe him that. Nah, truth can be boring. Had he actually paid attention to what was in my basket, he wouldn’t have asked.
I could have told him I was a cop who just finished a stake out.
A doctor just finishing up an emergency thoracotomy.
A ghost hunter.
An insomniac musician with a craving for eggplant.
In the end I gave him the truth and something he deserved. I said, “Je ne comprends pas.”