Come Back to the Five and Dime Walter Benjamin

Blind and crusing the aisles of convenience stores I pick up objects and press them close to my face. In a Costco store I was recently followed by the house dick who imagined, because I had a guide dog, that I’d no idea he was just ten feet behind me. I picked up random mercantile junk, a tin model of the Empire State building, and I sniffed it. The shamus was aghast but he didn’t make a move. How does one properly say “I felt his admixture of outrage and perplexity?” That’s of course a disability sentence.

In such instances one realizes fully that the semiotics of saleable junk is febrile and immediate. You’re not supposed to examine anything. What after all is a blind examination but a repudiation, a refusal to shop impulsively?

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