How Can I Help You

As every meeting ends in a goodbye, a shopping trip always ends in a good buy. That's life. But the sales are over and I hope this time to avoid a buyer’s fate. Oh, how I like thin collarbones of empty hangers, touched to death lonely blue dress, a cash register, still warm of residual heat and a young sales consultant, too beautiful for this world. She's tired, she can't wait to go home, but professional curiosity gets the better of her. - How can I help you? That simple question always gives me the creeps. What does she mean? How can she help me? Can she help me, say, relieve sexual tension? solve Riemann hypothesis? understand the meaning of life? But what if she really can? Shuddering with sweet horror, I feel in the shining perspectives of her question the presence of an unknown, but such a mind-blowing meaning that, if I could understand it, it would cross out the meaning of the existence of myself. She looks at her wristwatch and I cowardly give up: - A pair of shoes, please. - Fine, I recommend this one. Please note on material: it's vantablack, the blackest substance in the world. They make of it men's shoes, black holes and hearts of the sales consultants like me. two shoes for the price of one - a thrifty buyer will not miss his benefits