Chimpex
There is a shop here called Chimpex. The shop has nothing to with chimps, but I imagine it does.
In the shop’s door stands a man in a blue t-shirt. It’s a kind of t-shirt you wear on the day of cleaning the house utility closet. A shade of blue of the window cleaning liquid, the front says Welcome to Karlove Vari, or some other tourist destination he probably went to on his 10th marriage anniversary. The man is wearing shorts — think high school PE class — and flip flops. Next to his leg a plastic horse with on wheels and two bags of shopping.
Pacing left to right, he talks on the phone. His face — either concerned, or he needs the toilet.
None of this is important though. What’s important is a little plastic bag. Regardless of the number of grocery bags a shop-visitor must leave with an additional, separate, small plastic bag. That’s the law of the land.
The small plastic bag contains a bread bun. Sweet or plain — doesn’t matter. The role of the bun-in-a-bag is well-defined, yet its utility unexplained.
You fling it back and forth as you walk, twist the end of the bag and wrap around your index finger.
The bun will be underwhelming—that’s also the law of the land—so you might just have that bit of fun as you walk from Chimpex. Same level of fun as you had in Karlove Vari, and as you are about to have cleaning the utility closet.
