The rolling on of the 67’th Tuesday

August 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

Oh the dread of that loathsome day.

The place was packed which was typical of that area, that grocery store. It was always a fight to get her there and once you did she’d complain about how she detested all the emphasis on food. Looking back at people with eyes that screamed to go and fuck themselves.
“Why are all of these people here during the day? Shouldn’t they be at work?”
He was coming down from a fistful of pills he’d swallowed around seven that morning just before skipping out on work. Shuffling along leaning over the cart. He didn’t try to relax her because he liked her best when she was nuts, “It’s Saturday.”
“Still.”
“It‘s you.”
“Of course it’s me.”
Remembering she prefers the outrageously expensive gourmet kind of bread, he paused with nonchalance, knocking a cheap bleached loaf in the cart.
“Is that for my place?”
“Yeah.”
“You know I don’t eat that shit.”
They stared stupidly until he rolled his eyes and pushed the cart, “You don’t even eat bread.”
“Cause you always get the shit kind.”
“All of it makes you fat.”
Twisting with repulsion, she snatched up the bread and slung it for his face, “Eat your fucking white bread.” her nails must have ripped the plastic because the bread went flying. Knocking heads off over by the deli counter.
Mortified, he clenched his teeth, “Now I have to pay for the shit.”
She noticed a few people-scoffing like jackasses-so she walked off, leaving him with the burden of this mess she’d made. Off to the wine section where she stayed, picking out the cheapest wine because she was always so devastatingly broke and there was no way, he was paying for her wine.

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