This grocery store is not too far. It sells quality over quantity. They have crazy sales. I got peanut butter for two-fifty.
I am listening to Glasser. Decided to take my headphones out because the world sounds better. Wires danging from your ears isn’t the look I’m going for.
Somebody is fiddling with his bike. Something falls to the ground. Apologizing, he asks if there’s anything he can do. The cashiers are saying it’s fine. “Don’t worry about it.”
The bike man leaves without doing anything.
I buy Bon Maman Mixed Berry Jam. There is not a price on any of the jars but I just have it. It’s something we used to always get in Portland. We started buying it after the woman whose apartment we had stayed at in France gave us some for letting her clean her apartment.
It‘s’ less than three dollars.
The bread is whole wheat white. The coffee is Lavazza House Blend. I almost get a chicken wrap for five dollars, but put it back, feeling guilty. I don’t have a job. I am using Musette’s money. I don’t want to be eating better than her. The wrap cost as much as a week’s worth of coffee.
On the way home, a guy stops me. I had been trying to tweet Lilli with my voice. It was frustrating. I was distracted and unprepared.
“Are you doing alright?” he asks.
“Okay man. Just checkin…”
His friend is smiling.
He’s right. I should be intaking my surroundings. Social media can wait. This is how I pay for my stories. The question is how they’re paying me.