cargo shorts joe grocery store

I can't shop there anymore.
they are too friendly
in their cargo shorts
and Hawaiian shirts.
some with hats, others with
large island
necklaces dangling from
their necks.
they are hip and cool.
serving wine and small crackers
with bits of cheese
on them. they are
talkative.
they are all over the store
being helpful.
saying clever things.
so it looks like you're
going to make a sandwich
tonight with that meat,
eh?
the teller says, tossing
it into a bag.
I love sandwiches too.
that meat is out of this
world. I had some last week.
I bet you might slice up
those tomatoes too, right?
some cheese, some lettuce?
yeah, I thought so.
and pickles, who doesn't like
a pickle with their
sandwich, raise their
hand?
got a date?, he says, winking.
bottle of five buck wine,
some candles,
and our special non allergy
massage oil. oh, and a five pound
almond chocolate bar.
he rings a bell, and all
the other clerks start clapping.
you the man,
he says, as I cringe and leave
the store.