Mr. Murphy

Shopping is something I have always enjoyed. I get lost in the aisles and the curiosity of the shelves. When I realized I didn’t have the money to shop like I wanted, I figured, why not shop for others and get paid doing it?


As I make my way to the cleaning supplies, I scroll through the list Mr. Murphy had sent me. A few cleaning supplies; floor cleaner, bleach, mop pads and some scrubs. Simple enough. I add them to the cart, refer back to the list and make my way to the outside section of the store.


I noticed it wasn’t too crowded in here today, which was nice because large amounts of people freak me out. In the outdoor section I look around for a few of the items. A new shovel, tarp, firewood and some rope. The idea of sitting around the fire brings me comfort. I do, however, wonder about the tarp. Growing up, my mom would lay a tarp out in the yard, drizzle it with dish soap and turn on the hose for a make-shift slip’n’slide. Though, I don’t see Mr. Murphy, a forty eight year old man with no family, turning his backyard into a water park.


Looking back at the list, I make my way over to the office supplies. I toss in some staples and look for the paint aisle. Mr. Murphy put down red paint in capitol letters but finding just a tube of red paint was, surprisingly, not easy. I dinged through a pile of single containers and found a deep red at the bottom, it will do. I toss it in the cart and continue.


Just a few more things.


I do stop for a moment. The last few things on the list confuse me. Baby Diapers and pacifiers. Huh? Mr. Murphy doesn’t have any family so this is alittle strange to me, but I shrug it off and find the baby aisle. What a strange and interesting man.

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