I was at the produce aisle in the supermarket buying potatoes when an old man pulled up to one of the digital scales with a shopping cart laden with the cheapest processed meatballs you can get. He then proceeded to weigh every single container, either to make sure they contained the promised 360 grams or hoping some of the boxes had extra meatballs in them
my peak old guy moment: I woke up one morning and found a disheveled old man in my bathroom, staring at me completely unhinged.
I told him this was my home and to get out while he rambled unintelligibly at me like his mouth was full of marbles.
there was something familiar and tragic about his stare. that’s when I realized…