I went out, to get some lightbulbs. I wasn’t sure which size and what Watt power. I wanted to surprise myself. I wasn’t feeling weird, like, at all.
There’s a Gentleman’s club not far from where I live that I passed. For the first time I noticed the display window: big pictures of eyes. Eyes and eyes and eyes. 80s eyes too, that looked as if they were used to the sight of pastel, neon and the Purple Rain font.
Next to the Gentleman’s club is a Sexkino, because of course there is. There’s a bench right in front of it. Sometimes there’s a mother sitting there with her child, on a stroll. And sometimes the apparent owner steps out of the Sexkino to get some fresh air, I guess. And sometimes both, mother with, and Sexkino owner are there at the same time and try not to acknowledge the other’s one presence. Not today though.
A puppet theatre has opened, apparently overnight. The name of the theatre had been written with paint in clumsy letters on the glass door – as if a little kid had done it (so cute!) or an adult trying to emulate that hypothetical kid (totes creepy!). The window was empty, except for one single puppet, draped in a corner. It looked like Jar Jar Binks, or maybe that host of the Muppets late night parody that aired in the 90s. But there was something weird about it – it looked bloated, and drained of all colour. Like it had drowned. A drowned puppet.
Close to it is a shop that sells things made out of clay – all except dreydels. Two big heads – heads that looked like they belong to the floater puppet, only much bigger – stared at everybody who passed by. They weren’t painted though.
On the way to the place I saw three young dudes, all of which wore the woolen hat, with cow patterns. I don’t think they were a group. Or maybe they were a group. Or maybe somebody had tricked them – a fake profile on a dating site telling them to all come to that spot, at that time, and to wear a cow hat. (It must have been written, because if it had been a phonecall I’d surely seen somebody wearing a cow’s head.)
I went to the meat counter and noticed that the scales had TV screens now, that aired commercials about the bonding experience that is eating. And then I bought some lightbulbs. Cause, light, you know.