Plastic Literature

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 16
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Cal parked his bike outside his local grocer’s. It was a smaller, mom-and-pop store, with the mom actually being more of a grandmom and the pop being dead since World War II. Corporate owners had offered to buy the place out, as they do, but the old lady refused to sell. This place was all she had, except for the countless number of cats her sweaters revealed. The colors of the fur spread about the garment were too varied to come from one-to-three cats. Four-to-nine was more likely.

Cal knew all this information via his own mom. He didn’t really like small talk, nor did he take too much interest in what women over forty wore. Nor did he often go to the store, his mom taking care of that, too. Thank the gods she wasn’t dead.

Cal was adept enough to deduce on his own that the old lady’s name was Geraldine. The name of the store was Geraldine’s.

Reaching into his wallet, Calvin imagined he’d find the classical display of cobwebs. Instead, he found a bunch of old receipts and one ten-dollar bill. That would be enough to buy cereal and milk. And gum. And maybe a package of licorice for later.

By the time he finished shopping (about three minutes after he started), Cal had collected a small mess of stuff that, when grouped together, resulted in the most difficult carrying combination possible. A dry, square box. A wet, oval/rectangle plastic jug. A small, foil stick. A cheap, crackly bag. “I hate shopping,” he decided. At the same time, he decided that he loved shopping carts, some of which were on display at the front of the store. Cal had passed them up upon entering in a show of disinterest. His idiocy resounded.

Still, everything is relative. As he struggled to the counter, Cal recognized a young man arguing with an old lady. The old lady wore a sweater covered in cat fur. The young man wore goggles atop his head.

That is idiocy.

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Milk jugs plus Baby Pals equals this.