Lemon Tsupryk Q1 #2: A man walks into a convenience store.
No, wait, let me start over.
Two men walk into a convenience store. They pick out whatever they need, a drink or a smoke, it doesn’t matter, then go to the counter to pay. There, the man—or, sorry, men, they happen to strike a conversation with the person at the counter. Well, at first one of the men tries to pay, but the minimum wage worker at the cash register shakes their head at his outstretched credit card.
“We don’t take credit here,” says the worker.
“Right,” says the second man, fumbling with his wallet. His wallet does not obey him, as wallets tend to do, so the man speaks again just to fill the air. “Had a rough day at work,” he says. “And my favorite coffee place closed.” The first man just stares.
“It happens,” responds the worker, sneaking furtive glances at the first man.
“Do you need to ID me, by the way?” The second man asks, “I have it here.” The first man, on command, takes his (their?) ID from his pocket. The worker’s brow furrows.
“No,” they frown, “I can see you are old enough.”
The second man drops a quarter, it slips from his fingers and clatters to the floor. He stoops to get it. The worker flinches. The first man stands as still as the photograph on a driver’s license.
“Is he alright?” asks the worker when the first man’s head reappears above the counter.
“Who, him?” The second man tilts his head towards the first. “Yeah, I’m alright. I’ve been stolen, is all. Here’s the ten, keep the change.” The worker takes the bill from his warm hand, but never takes their eyes off the first man.
“You? Stolen?” They ask.
“Yep,” says the second man. “Or my identity, rather. He’s got it now, the proof that I exist. My IDs, my passport, my birth certificate, everything. Which is so strange,” the second man sighs, “I am my own proof. I am here, I am alive, I can still enjoy things like coffee or getting off work early. And yet…” he trails off, spreading his hands in resignation. “They can’t find me without him now. ‘Identity theft’, it sounds terrifying—and there is no doubt it is—but it’s nothing like the stories of doppelgangers or changelings. For most people, at least. Right, me?”
The first man nods.
The security camera hanging like a bat in the corner twitches to life, trained on the first man. The second man rolls his eyes.
“Alright,” he says.
“Alright,” The worker says back for lack of anything else to say.
The second man walks out of the convenience store. The first man stays behind just a little longer, still looking at the worker.
Or no, maybe there are two workers. One worker the numbers, the documents, all which the government sees, while the other—a person.
The first man turns and walks out of the store.
Hi Lemon! I want to commend you first for experimenting with such an interesting writing style. I love how you a simple setting, like the convenience store, but as the dialogue begins it delves deeper into something bigger. I enjoyed the imagery and detail you’ve implemented into your blog. I wasn’t sure which man to believe or even which one was real. The ending with the “two workers” was a sharp way to show how institutions reduce our identities to just documents. Your blog was very thought-provoking so thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteHello, Lemon! To be honest, on first read, your blog post really stood out to me. It was kind of confusing because I think I wasn't reading about yourself, but instead appreciating your writing style. After rereading it a few more times, I appreciate what you were doing in this blog, and it’s really thought provoking. The faltering narration on the number of characters really drives home how people have two “identities”, one as a person and one as the government sees you. It’s super interesting to see how you are experimenting with a different writing style than your previous blog post!
ReplyDeleteThis was definitely an intriguing read! The part about the first man offering credit while the second man needs to fumble in his wallet for spare change was a great detail--by establishing that their financial situations are drastically different, the story further emphasizes its message about distinct identities and identify theft.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I love that you started the story with "No, wait, let me start over." My first instinct after reading your story was to go back to the beginning, so soaking in that first line a second time made the whole scenario feel even more fever-dreamish, almost like an infinite loop in the story where the first and second man are stuck in the convenience store forever.