An old man wearing sunglasses and a raincoat walks into a grocery store. The doorbell chimes, and a few of the customers in line turn around. His outfit doesn’t go unnoticed by any of them. Besides the sunglasses and the raincoat —odd enough in the middle of August— he’s wearing a hat pulled down to his eyebrows, as if trying to disappear beneath it.

He ignores their glances and gets in line.

Twenty minutes later, the stranger grows impatient and huffs loudly a couple of times. The woman in front of him turns and shoots him a death glare.

“Would you mind wasting your breath elsewhere?”

He doesn’t reply, but steps out of line and starts wandering among the fruit stands.

After the last customer leaves, the clerk stares at him and asks, “How can I help you, sir?”

The mysterious man rushes up to the counter and, without taking off his glasses or hat, whispers, “A friend of mine sends me.”

“O...kay... Is your friend one of our customers?”

The man pulls his hat down a little further. “No, no. Well—he is. But he’s... special,” he says stressing the word.

“All our customers are special, sir. May I have this person’s name?”

“Maybe later,” he says, tightening his raincoat.

“Can I offer you some of our special products?”

“How not? That’s exactly why I came.”

“Okay... today we have these delicious tomatoes. Look at these beauties,” the clerk says, handing him one.

“No, no,” he says, shaking his hand. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”

“Okay... what about this gorgeous lettuce?”

“Not that either.”

"So what do you want?" says the clerk in annoyance, "Nothing personal, man, but I don't have all day!"

I'm sorry, I should've been more specific," he says, turning his head and glancing the door. "I'm here to buy time."

I don't understand— you mean to kill time?

(To be continued)