I went shopping and saw a packet of kale Caesar salad on special from $5 to $1.45. I picked up a packet and turned around, and a woman was watching me, and she also had a packet of kale Caesar salad discounted from $5 to $1.45.
I thought, I should say something, I have an in, but all I could think to say was, Hey you don’t make friends with salad, but you could make a stable relationship with a potential husband.
But that was too formal.
I thought I could follow her and pick up other things that she was buying, so we would have heaps to talk about at the cash register. I could start shadow shopping her, because that sounds better than stalking.
But I imagined standing behind her as she chose tampons, waiting to buy tampons myself, and I wasn’t sure why I would need tampons, or why she would want to date a guy who needs tampons, and if she did how I could pull that off. I mean it’s okay if a guy wants to use tampons, but I’m just not that kind of guy.
Then I remembered a game called Supermarket Dating, where people get items that identify them as single, and walk around the supermarket so other single people can see them and start a conversation. For this I wondered if I should get a banana, or a punnet of ice cream, or a stack of microwave meals. There were potatoes next to me. Apart from suggesting I was going to make a tiny serve of gnocchi, or a minute amount of vodka, I wasn’t sure how holding a potato would help.
I had a bag of kale, but she also only had a bag of kale. A bag big enough for two.
Mum said, “She wouldn’t have had a partner. Nobody likes kale.”
I said, “I like kale.”
She said, “Yeah, and you don’t have a partner. Join the dots.”
I looked at my packet of kale. I looked at her packet of kale. I said, “Snap!”
She said, “What?”
I said, “Kale.”
She said, “I’m putting this back. I don’t like kale.”
So yeah. She probably does have a partner. Good. Good for her.