he walked up behind her and she awkwardly noticed herself.

“i should not being standing in a contemplative mode in front of the plastic bags. what IS the difference between Glad and Hefty? i’m totally in his way. he probably needs Glad freezer bags and i’m right in front of them. oh, sorry, i’ll scoot over. okay…which one’s cheaper per count? just get that one. Hefty. how many bags, though? what’s the difference between Freezer and Storage? jesus just pick one. he’s staring at these bags too. or is he watching me? am i in his way? i can’t fucking believe i haven’t figured out which box of plastic fucking bags. i have that tomato from lunch at home so i should probably get some medium bags and some big gallon bags. if i get all gallon bags i’ll probably use one for something small, like a tomato or cheese or an onion. i wonder which bags he’ll get. i fucking hate these jeans. whatever he gets will probably be the best price per count…how else would you pick out plastic bags??”

he walked up behind her and she awkwardly noticed herself.

he looked at the selection of plastic bags, quite excited that he’d finally (and inexplicably) managed to remember he needed them.

“nice. bags. is she cute..? i think i’d do it. okay…bags. fucking marketing. i need big ones, get some medium ones in case, and fuck little ones. price; per count…Glad. DONE. i wonder what she’s thinking.”

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