The man sitting out front is holding out his hat, Come on man, I know you got a dollar. I got plenty and it aint for you. Walking through the sliding doors makes me feel like Im living in a distant future where things arent really this shitty. But no, they are. I know this by the expression on the greeters face, even he can barely wear a smile and he gets paid to make you feel at home. Walking through the aisles I feel as though Im in another world, some country stricken with poverty. A child runs past me to his mother, Momma, buy this for me. Before he can even show her the three dollar toy gun, she rips it out of his hands. and grabs his arm as if to tear it from the socket, I told you to stop bringing me this shit, now hold on to the buggy before I beat your ass.. Damn I said it in a low and sad voice. She looked up at me and stared directly in my eyes. You got a problem? I just walked away. Somewhere between automotive and kitchenware I forgot what I came for. Instead I just stared for a time at a wall of cereal boxes. Each box was brightly colored. Some with Spider-man on the front; some with bunny rabbits and robots and mythical creatures. There were lions and zombies and happy people from far off lands that looked like attractions at Disney world. Then it all turned purple, then black. Is he okay? Fuck! man, there goes our raises. A stagnant smell over took me all at once. I was reminded of plastic, no latex. running through my mind was everything made of latex, condoms and balloons and gloves. Then memories blurred by of sex and childhood birthdays and visits to the doctor. My stomach turned and bubbled and a great pressure fell on my chest. A womans hand holding me down, Sir, dont try to move. I couldnt raise my arms to take off the oxygen mask. The hot putrid vomit spattered against the inside of the mask back into my mouth and then down my throat. Choking on the vomit. Choking on everything I had seen and felt, I waited, for nothing at all.