Dutiful

The fine line between security and discrimination is the facts apparently. I am walking out of a shop with a item in a bag. I’m stopped by the guard. He security checks me. Actually, he checks my receipt to see if I’ve purchased. I’m wearing casual. Do I they think I look like a “bum” who is going to steal something?

Was I singled out for wearing shorts at 10.00am on a Monday morning so I looked like the kind of person who would nick off with something? I must look dodgy.

So, I checked with the manager and was given a satisfactory answer. At this place they are doubly security conscious. It is actually their job to check receipts. This guy did. The only one who has in three years frequenting this shop.

Someone is doing their job on a quiet day.

But during a busy time it’s a pot luck kind of way to see if someone has purchased. Who do you choose?

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I have my place

So, stop telling me that I shouldn’t buy this or that.

I’m a writer

So, in light of this, should I write a commercial novel because I now feel what it’s like to be a consumer?

Guilty pleasures

Because we buy as unique consumers. I buy this, you buy that. But since I’m a writer it’s more of a flaw to call oneself a writer and buy those commercial, materialistic things that don’t fill the soul but make us empty.

Special

They tell me it’s so; the customer service rep, the company, the retailer. They tell me! And I felt it more now. I shouldn’t, but I did. And that we do, that I do, that you do, that no one else but you and no one else but me does. We are all special—as consumers. And when I am the customer service rep and the company man and get paid, I know how all those customer service reps must feel when they I pay them, because of my custom. It feels just wonderful.