Ocho stood in front of the Foot-Locker. In need of new trainers, he decided to try his luck down-town. When he shuffled into the store, a wave of electronic music washed over him. Disoriented he blinked his eyes. Why do they always play loud music in retail stores? – Because it disorients you, which makes you stupid, which makes you buy the extremely overpriced items anyway, – was the first thought that ran through his mind. That’s one of the reasons Ocho preferred the ocean. No loud music. In fact there was no music. Unless you were lucky enough to catch a performance by Aquasonic. Which would be an extraordinary experience. He hoped he someday would be so lucky to cross paths with these interesting artists.
Ocho looked around for a staff-member. He knew he would be considered a ‘special case’. As always. His experience has thought him to know better than to take matters into his own hands and to bluntly start trying on a pair of shoes. Instead he hoped that if he acted like a real goody-goody he could get out of there without the usual hassle. In the center of the store stood a guy with a key-cord around his neck, wearing the typical black-white striped jersey typical for the stores employees. Leaning nonchalant against one of the many pillars that were plastered with discount-posters, the guy made a bored impression. He’d seemed not the least bit interested in helping out potential customers. Without regard for his surroundings he was preoccupied with his smartphone. When Ocho approached he didn’t look up. After Ocho expressively cleared his throat to get the lad’s attention an irritated frown appeared on his face. He tore his eyes from the screen. ‘No squids allowed in this store’, he stated brusquely. Here we go again. ‘I am not a squid.. do you see any fins?’ – No. That’s what I thought. Why don’t you google ‘ Octopodidae Mollusca’, see if you might be able to make a proper distinction in the future. His reply said it all. ‘ehm.. what?’. Now it was Ocho’s turn to be irritated. ‘Or perhaps if you saw the 13th James Bond movie, starring Roger Moore?’ Ocho snarled. ‘ No clue what you are talking about mate’. ‘Oc-To-Pus’, Ocho sighed tiredly. ‘same difference’ the employee replied unimpressed. ‘Would you be so kind as to help me find appropriate footwear? Ocho then asked. ‘Pick a model and tell me what size you’d like to try on’ he answered, having already turned his attention back to his smartphone.
Ocho browsed a bit until he found a flashy pair with bright colors; silver, blue and white. He signaled the guy to come over, who took his time to slowly shuffled towards him. Ocho couldn’t help but notice the resemblance with a penitentiary inmate, wearing the typical black and white cartoonesque prison-attire. ‘What size?’. ‘two pairs of eights, one pair of eight and half, and a nine please,’, Ocho replied. Lazy-irritated-inmate-look-a-like-phone-obsessed-employer looked down at Ocho’s tentacles. He shrugged, ground his teeth and disappeared somewhere in the back of the shop. After a couple of minutes he returned with a wobbly stack of boxes in his arms. Ocho glanced at his watch. There would be not enough time to try them all on, or he would be late for his appointment at the print shop. ‘Ill take them all’ – Ocho said, praying they would all fit.
One by one he picked up the boxes from the stack, a pair of brand new trainers in each tentacle. He shuffled to the register and payed with his credit card. The electronic music was still blaring through the speakers. As a matter of fact it was better this way, Ocho thought. The music was causing him a headache and he was glad to leave the store. At home he could try on each pair in the comfort of his coral den. Fortunately the print shop was just around the corner. Ocho aimed to be punctual. When he entered the shop a little bell rang and a woman rushed from the back of the store to the counter. Ocho put the boxes with his new shoes on the floor and turned to the woman. She smiled friendly. ’what can I help you with today sir?’ Now there is your proper service. ‘ I have an appointment’ said Ocho. ‘I’ve come to donate some ink’.
Give me a reason to end this discussion,
To break with tradition, to fold and divide.
Cause I hate the ocean, theme parks and airplanes,
Talking with strangers, waiting in line..
Tell me that you’re alright,
Yeah everything is alright.
Oh please tell me that you’re alright,
Yeah everything is alright.
Everything is alright – Motion City Soundtrack
