| Sample from Bombing Starbucks, Chapter Eight | ||
| She flips through the Nordstrom’s catalogue for a while. All these clothes. $129 for a blouse? That’s more than she’s making in a month right now. Can Laura really afford these clothes? Why does Nordstrom’s imagine that Laura can really afford all these clothes? Did Laura buy something from Nordstrom’s once or did she just buy something from a company like Nordstrom’s that decided to sell her name and address to other mail-order clothing suppliers? Is Nordstrom’s a part of Laura’s identity or is Laura a part of Nordstrom’s identity? Or both? She looks at the women wearing the Nordstrom’s clothes and tries to visualize Laura as one of them. Then she tries to visualize herself as one of them. Right now, Samantha is wearing a shirt that says “Grease Monkey” that she bought for 99˘. She rolls up the Nordstrom’s catalogue again and uses it to smash flies on the kitchen countertop. “I’m only having a nervous breakdown,” she says—her voice is loud—and she spots another one, at the corner of the sink, and—wham!—she uses the thick bludgeon of possible clothing-oriented futures in her hand to convert it into a tiny patty of fly parts.
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