The last night of my life

Tonight in the supermarket,
between selecting a peach
and passing on the slimy precooked chickens,
I actually had to cough
to stop laughter flying from me
and slapping all those after work people across their faces.
I watched a lumpy bleached blonde put a bottle of diet Coke in her trolley
and young boys stacking shelves,
holes in their faces
where they’d dutifully removed piercings.
Somewhere in the store was someone who’d come from car with the words
‘sexy bitches drive red cars’
framing the numberplate.
The facts that can be learnt in parking buildings are possibly numerous.
However, there was no one sexy that I could see,
bitches or otherwise.
Everyone looked rather stupefied, like
‘how did every moment of my life lead to this?’
‘what if a humid night in Pak n Save is the last night of my life?’
Regardless, I presume they all still stayed, shopped and paid.
I did, at least.
The peach was delicious by the way.