Into a crematorium
There is a woman wearing oversized goggles
That extend into a white draped hood
Her gloves are thick like phonemen used to wear
And she does the thing I hate the most
She tries to help by grabbing one side of the cart and guiding it
As if I lack the ability to steer a fucking shopping cart
I tell her to let go and she refuses, saying "This is my crematorium."
So now I have an overly gloved goggle-faced inverse Darth Vader lady
Trying to pull MY shopping cart full of MY groceries
Toward the first of three industrial-sized ovens
I take a moment to notice the strength of goggle-lady's grip on the cart
And realize she is pulling the cart toward the opening door of the first oven
As I struggle and lose my grip
I know that none of these products will survive
Once they are in the oven
She wins the battle and we both watch the immolation
Through the smoky glass window of oven #1
Once it is finished I turn to leave and nod a slow and deliberate "yes"
When she instructs me to return tomorrow
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