Twister
Dear Diary. Today I went to the Sunday market, it's a market in Girona that sells used stuff. Sometimes you can get a good deal. Most of the time I just wander around thinking the whole thing's pointless. You might as well just save your time and buy what you want on Amazon.
I see Twister. I look inside the box. Everything's there: the mat and the spinning thing. Though the mat is dirty and it's got little black dots on it.
The guy running the stall looks like a fucking drug addict. He’s got a wrinkled, lined face and he looks twitchy and desperate.
"How much do you want?" I ask the guy.
The guy mumbles something I don't understand.
"What?" I ask.
He mumbles again.
"Sorry, what?" I say.
I finally make out what he's saying: "Ten euro but I can give it to you for six."
Why's he suddenly given me a discount? I don't know. Unless he planned to sell it for €6 all along.
€6 is a rip-off but it's still cheaper than buying Twister new. I don't have €6 so I hand him a €10 note. He then hands me two fake €2 coins as change. They feel too light.
"These are fake," I say.
"No, no, they're real," he says.
"They're fake," I insist, because they're obviously fake.
"They're special coins from Holland," he says.
Special coins from Holland? You don't get special coins in Holland, you dicktwat.
He's already tucked my €10 note into his pocket and I don't think he'll give it back.
I sigh. "Don't you have any other coins?" I ask.
"No, only those," he says.
He's working on a market stall so I suspect he probably does have more coins on him.
What would my dad do? If my dad were here, then he would shout until the man cries and gives the money back. But my dad isn't here. And I'm not my dad.
Sighing, I say, "Okay, that's fine." And I accept his fake coins.
Fuck the market. I won’t be coming back. The market is for poor people. When you're poor, you can't afford new things, you can only afford used things, and you have to scavenge for them for hours in market stalls, while drug addicts scam you out of your money. Fuck the market. It's just a waste of time and money. From now on, I'm buying everything from Amazon.
When I get home, I try playing Twister with 4-year-old. I've never played Twister before. It's harder than I expected. Christ, it's hard and my muscles hurt. Gyms should have Twister.
Later I go out with 4-year-old. 4-year-old's on his bike. He's only aged four and he can already ride a bike. Whereas I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was eight. I had to use stabilisers. Maybe it's because I was somewhat retarded.
We go to the ice cream shop. The cheapest ice cream is €3.70. Three euros seventy! For ice cream!
Then I remember the fake coins in my pocket. "Here you go," I say, handing the fake coins over.
The woman's wearing gloves so she doesn't realise the coins are fake. Ha. Serves her right for selling such expensive ice cream.
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