Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Paper Bag

I get so nervous when the female cashier looks at me.
She asks me if I want to buy a paper bag.
First off, I brought my own!

So I have to wonder to myself:
Is she flirting with me?
No, no, she does this a 100 times a day already.
She knows I have my own reusable cloth bag,
It's right there in front of her face.
She wants my number and a date, doesn't she?
I've noticed her good eye-makeup once before.
I'm no idiot.

What if she's a shill for the paper industry?
She's trying to get rid of these bags,
For dollars on the penny.
Entrepreneurs make America.
She's gotta be one of them.

"No thank you", I say.
I brought my own bag.
I'm awake about it.
Not like these other sheep.
I buy organic,
To keep the brainwash juices out of my mind.

She's obviously in love with me.
I mean - look at this that I am.
A gift from God to please a woman's desires.
I ask her out to Shakespeare in the Park.

She politely declines.
I hate when they play hard to get.
Next week, I'll ignore her.
That always gets them.

I wonder what the names of our children will be.
Probably something interesting,
Like Raven or Zelda.
I won't bring a reusable bag next time,
So she'll be right to ask me.