4,95 and a snow white hatpublished: 2010-12-21
I had a meeting – or was it a chat? There was Jasmine tea – with a man of substance and grace and we spoke of his plans, my plans, of his projects and mine after which I stepped into the minus 5 degrees which it was outside and crossed over through slush and snow over ice to the High Street thinking maybe I could skip a tram stop and find a toy store in order to have my son's Christmas present all set and taken care of but was distracted by – or was it drawn to? – a window sized poster of a female ass which was round and firm and soft and lifted slightly so you could see between her legs and look straight at her peach – covered by red underwear – and I considered whether I knew anyone who had an ass as perfect as the one on the poster which said "Ibiza sex" and couldn't help I wander into that shop where I studied vibrators which were light pink and baby blue and came in all kinds of twisted rubbery shapes and sizes that were stranger than I remember them being at age 18 and there was also the Tarzan which apparently "everyone" has except for me just like I don't have the Uggs which "everyone" has and so I went back outside and followed those Uggs – most of them topped by asses that clearly weren't as firm and peachy as the one on the poster even though they were really very young – through grey slush and ended up in H&M wondering what I needed and therefore buying a 4,95 euro synthetic hat which was white as snow – except snow actually never is that white - and stood in line for half an hour listening to Kate Bush that was on way too loud and got on my nerves while nobody else seemed to mind so I studied the faces of the girls who had Uggs and also wore shiny black puffy jackets with fake fur collars and most of them seemed to have zoned out which is what I then did – zone out – after which I somehow paid without realizing I did and ended up in that High Street again drifting on the smell of french fries and pancakes and baked bread past the Cool Cat where I had worked when I was young in similar way too loud music and meanwhile considered how I had worked my way up the retail ladder to Esprit which in fact was worse than Cool Cat while all these people out there, on the street, all these girls and boys, wove in and out of shops selling cheap bags, fake brands, sneakers and stuff to go with their overpriced Uggs were in no hurry at all so I started wondering whether all this was a conspiracy against me because I was dizzy and felt like I was somehow falling into the question where all of this was going to end and why. Why was there not a single toy store for my son? Not one.
I like the flow of this stream of consciousness. It reminded me of that Suzanne Vega Song: Tom’s Diner. That’s the biggest compliment ever you’ll get out of me!