he didn't know how to cook, and didn't have any materials to cook with at home even if he DID know how. Pots and pans were luxury items, not necessities. And the supermarket was pointless. It was more like a giant reflection of how much he didn't fit into the rat race ideal that 99.9% of the people subscribed to.
like a divining rod, or a oiji board, his shopping cart guided him to the frozen food section, which was lined by frost bitten glass doors, and white flourecent lights as the trimming on each door.
finally he cocked his head from side to side, noticing the frozen delights that were behind the translucent ice. The microwave was something he knew how to operate. And these were the foods that he knew how to prepare.
but today he turned up his nose at the lean cuisines, the budget gourmets, and the TV dinners. And only stopped the perpetually moving, rattling cage on wheels in front of the ice cream, and he opened the door, and heard the rumble of the freezer, combined with the splash of ice air that hit his face.
he stared slack jawed reading the names of the various flavors to himself. The clever witty titles crashed and collided in his mind, until he was standing there not even thinking about ice cream at all... But rather, he was thinking about how iconic religious imagery, and symbolism are playing roles helping the leaders of today with manipulating the use of funds from lowerclass families' incomes, in and around the world today. Or some shit like that.
an old lady entering the frozen food section snaps him back to reality, as he cocks his head over to see who it was... It was nobody.
with a sigh, and after letting his shoulders un-tense, he reached in and grabbed the same flavor of ice cream he always grabbed. He then abandoned his shopping cart, and proceeded to the check out line. And thought to himself, "fuck the supermarket. 7-11 is faster."
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