When all the bananas are thrown away the shop looks very empty. It makes me walk differently. I feel good. I want to put my arms around the replenishment assistants and pay them compliments and take them out to the pub with me afterwards. I want to buy them drinks and packets of crisps and things. I want to invite them round to my house and give them drugs and get them stoned and make wild love to them.
I will marry them all – Andy, Lee, and Sarah.
Not Linda though.
The black brown bananas are stacked now in the skip in the back yard.
We can concentrate on normal produce again.
Apples, tomatoes, broccoli, etc.
I wear my relief like a uniform.