this here is a little story about my day at the grocer.
as i walked down the dimly lit halls of our favourite shopping centre (center?), and after many hours spent looking at the spoils of the local zellers, my stomach growled that familiar growl that ensues hunger. so i stopped off at the grocer-store that the mall was equipped with. what majesticies they had. potato-crisps, soda-pop, sugared-sweets, ice-pops, chewy-granola, sand-wiches. it was the latter that pulled in my fancy. i reached out and moved towards the chilled cubicle that held the wonderous meat-breads. so much choices, so much meats. after much deliberation and careful weighing of the goods i chose a delicious looking croissant filled with turkey-meat, accompanied by a lettuce and tomato aquaintance. i carried it delicately to the payment desk and waited patiently for my turn. inside my emotions were in turmoil; lust careening against the waves of joy, themselves hammering against an anvil of guilt.
however, the line was getting shorter and it was soon my own turn would come to exchange my hard-earned dollars for nutrification. only one more pleasant lady ahead of me, then it would be me. i rocked back and forth in my pumas. excite was me. at this point, nothing mattered but the sandwich. with a mild irritation, wonder penetrated the fog of joy that had occupied my head. what was taking this broad so long?
she was making small purchase. a handfull of small cherry tomatoes, some canned tuna, a leek, and now she was asking the cash-desk-payment-attendee to fetch her a box of smokees. she was almost done. the cash-lady took the payment for the goods and packed up the purchases. the lady searched her bag for her precious tobacs, and a smile crawled across her face when she found them. a smile that disappeared when she saw the box.
and here is the stupidity.
now, here in canada, or maybe just here in quebec, our cigarette packets are plastered with warnings. like CIGARETTE KILL YOU, KILL YOUR FAMILY, KILL YOUR BABY. i swear once i saw a cigarette kick a baby into a busy traffic. but thats besides the point. point is, they are labeled with warnings. and some of those warnings are graphically vicious; such as the cancer-ridden lung, and the black, gappy, mouth-fulla-cancer.
the latter being the one this upscale snoot had the luck in getting. hence the look of disgust. now here is my issue. you smoke the things and they WILL cause your mouth to look like that eventually. black, toothless, charcoaly. but she wouldnt have it. no sir. she asked the cashier-persona to change it for another box. 'i refuse to look at this mouth everytime i want a smoke' was her demeanor. so instead, she accepted the packet with the warning that cautioned about second hand smoke killing(murdering) babies. all this took place with the lady in fits of mild giggles.