IN THE CARPARK

Did you ever buy yourself something nice at the shops like a cream bun or a packet of chips and you go through the self serve checkout making sure to keep it on top of the other shopping in the bag for easy access when you get back to the car and you just sit in the carpark quietly for half a minute knowing its coming and eat it there and then like an animal without a thought given to any other human just for a treat like a tiny reward because fuck it you've brung it lately went all out sacrificed and you needed a reward and no reward was on the horizon so you had to take matters into your own hands and you put on some nice music and you look at the treat and you say in a low sexy voice "I'm going to do you slow" and you do you take each chip and savour it one at a time feeling the texture tasting the flavour experiencing the crunch slowly with gusto aplomb and reverence and sometimes if you're depressed you do the same ritual but you might cry a bit and tell yourself you'll be grand it's going to be fine sure you've got this far haven't you still got your talent your good looks and your health and the money your Granny left you and you kept secret from your wife in case you decided one day to throw in the towel and take your favourite guitar and two pairs of jeans and head for the airport and buy that ruined country house you saw online in Tusson and start your life over look for a half decent looking local lonely widow that wants a cuddle and she can teach you the language and a thing or two about being tied up for the ride and she puts manners on you and you get a lovely vegetable garden going and a few cearcs and a Mongrel dog that's too old and fat to run away and the locals call you Paddy in a French accent and you forgive them because you're older now and not so easily offended but you finish the chips take a breath and drive home?

No, no me neither. That'd be crazy.