The Apple Store

I walked into the apple store and asked the man if I could buy an apple.

He told me no.

I said that isn’t fair.

I want to buy an apple.

He said to me “well, I don’t want to sell you an apple.”

At this point, another someone walked by and the man gave them an apple.

“Well, just give me the apple,” I said to the man.

“No,” he said again.

“Why?” I said.

“Why not?” he said.

“I’m hungry,” I said to him.

“You should work on not being hungry,” he said to me.

“That’s precisely what I’m trying to do,” I said to him.

“No,” he said, “you’re trying to be full.”

“Same thing,” I said.

“Not at all,” he said.

“I want to speak to the manager,” I said to the man.

“I am the manager,” the man said.

“Well then, I want to speak to your boss,” I said.

“I am my own boss,” he said.

“You can’t be your own boss,” I said.

“Yes you can,” he said, “you would understand that if you weren’t so hungry.”

“Well, I’m going to be hungry until you give me that apple,” I said.

“I guess you’ll always be hungry,” he said, biting into the apple.

I left the Apple Store and sat on a bench outside beneath the sun, which just laughed at me as I cried. Then I laughed and the sun cried, and then after quite some time and a decent spell of boredom, I decided not to be hungry anymore and I wasn’t.