....e io preferisco Pinocchio! ....and I prefere Pinocchio!
Originally uploaded by parri67reds!.
The other day when I went in to buy my $10 loaf of bread (that incidentally went mouldy faster than anything you've ever seen), I was looked after by my favourite checkout operator.
Again, he asked me how "my baby" was doing. Of course he is referring to my mythical boyfriend - mythical in the sense that he does not actually exist, but the checkout dude just THINKS he does. And I have never corrected him.
Ugh it's a nightmare - I'm too far into the ruse to turn back now. Originally I figured the only way to get out of this mess was to buy a giant tub of Ben & Jerry's (and nothing else), and come through the checkout sobbing. Perhaps that would suggest - without the need for words - that the 'relationship' had finally met its end and we could drop the subject.
But these are the genius ideas I have outside the store, and by the time I get in there, I have totally forgotten about it.
Naturally I'm being paranoid - and I know that. I mean, the checkout guy is only making conversation with me because I'm otherwise a rather boring shopper. I am always shopping alone, and I always buy the same things; Diet Coke, hummus, carrot sticks. So I guess that having him believe I am ensconced in a fully-functional and satisfying relatonship makes me seem somehow less dull.
I really have to stop spending so much time alone obsessing about these things, don't I?