Long shot interior: the Super-Titan Supermarket
Pan down slowly to Lane 10,
this lane the bailiwick of Eva-Lynn--
Close-up shot of hands
red nail polish, quickly nimbly scan
bar codes. Tip tap dancing fingers
on the cash register keys lithely as Astaire and Rogers
on terraced sets
of musical extravaganzas.

Medium shot of Eva-Lynn in a cocoa brown jacket
uniform of Super-Titan Supermarket
oaky hair, loosely tied back with black velvet ribbon, fetchingly
halo-frames the face now seen Close Up:
lines about the mouth, crows feet around wrinkly twinkly
blue eyes. Past beauty's prime
which is, of course, relative to one's own time.
(I speak for myself.)

She wears a badge with large block letters EVA-LYNN
and under that, We care about YOU-- Super Titan.
(I take it they mean me.)
I read the badge, observing surreptitiously
in the vee of her blouse, white lace,
say in the manner of some low-budget Bogart,
What's a nice girl like you doing in a place
like this?
feeling a little guilty that she has to wear her name on a badge
while we customers parade by, as I, sometimes trading badinage
but yet anonymous.
So she says Paper or plastic?
(concerning bags in which to suff my stash).
I say Paper and I'll pay cash.

Another time I say We have to stop meeting like this.
So she says Paper or plastic?
and I say Paper and I'll pay cash.

And then I say Let's run away together
She says A place with balmy weather.
I say We'll go to some islands.
She says Pink sands and reggae bands. I'll get a tan
buy a bikini bathing suit
drink daquiris decked with fruit.
I say We go by car to get there.
She says To islands you go by sea or air.
I say I didn't say what islands. We go to Staten, then Long. On Long is Coney and Fire,
Jamaica, and Nassau.
She says I've been to all. Plastic or paper?
And I say Plastic
And she says That's what I've been waiting for!

Throws off her cocoa-brown coat
and steps out from behind the checkout
wearing printed pants with roses, done
in pastel tones,
and silver slippers tied with ribbons.

Music rises: pianos, brass, instruments with strings,
customers and clerks chorusing.
We dance our way to the parking lot--
waltz, tango, fox-trot.
The Metro sky glows Goldwyn Mayer
as we fade away
in her cocoa-colored Chevrolet.