Nighttime at the supermarket. I’m buying nothing but snack food. The cashier cracks a joke, asking me if I’m sure I don’t need eggs or cereal. I launch into a diatribe: Fuck cereal. Cereal isn’t food. I don’t trifle with kibble for people. I turn around to face you. You’re buying three boxes of muesli and a thing of kale. I stutter a bit about how yogurt ALSO isn’t food, but I think I’ve lost you. I’ve thought of you often, breakfast food man. I’ve scanned the faces of far too many white guys and lingered a little too long in the cereal aisle. Alas, no luck. You’re one hot spoonful, muesli dude.
—Pyjama-clad snack shopper