Take Me - Shopping

He won't get off his phone. I'm starting to get irritated. Following behind me like he's not with me. I'm sure he's trying to make out like he's the hired help or something, pushing the trolley. Okay. Okay. I paid him. But it's not because he's black. I just need him to lift the furniture and drive the car. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. It's not easy to speak to him while he's reading messages. I ask him if he wants breakfast. He seems annoyed. He's already eaten. He accepts a cup of coffee while I eat my cake. He helps a lady pick her shopping up when it falls. She's ever so grateful. Everyone's staring now. Curious about what's happened. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. He says his sister is in trouble. Back in his country. Wherever it is he's from. Always a different excuse. I mean - how hard can it be to push a freaking trolley? I ask for the measurements of a mirror. The assistant is falling over herself to help me. She probably thinks I'm rich. She's on commission. She'll polish it too. He seems interested at first and looks at it. Briefly. She shares a sympathetic smile with me. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. And I need him to lift the furniture into the trolley. He does it with just one hand. He says his son is coming to live with him. That's why he's working so hard. I didn't expect him to confide in me. I wasn't embarrassed. It was just unexpected. I haven't known him long. I thought it was a ploy to get more money off me. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. I ask him what he thinks of this lampshade. He grunts. The assistant raises her eyes, not quite to the ceiling. I look up. It's very high. Metal beams and glass. She goes to polish another mirror. There are more customers now, and I'm worried he'll crash into someone if he doesn't keep his mind on the job. He's distracted. I'm paying for his time. I want a bit more participation. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. How can I pretend we're together if he's not even looking? I don't want them to know I'm paying him. "Look at this picture! Do you like it?" He seems a bit like most of the other men here. Couldn't care less about vases and plates. Perhaps they really will think we're a couple. I doubt it though. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. I think he's listening to a voicemail now. The trolley's getting full and the assistant brings another. I want to know which cushions he prefers. Orange or pink? We've got to a bit of the shop with an ethnic vibe. I turn to him to make a comment about how cheap these things must be where they're made. Then I stop and think that might not be polite. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. The other customers pretend not to notice us; a blonde woman with Chanel sunglasses and expensive boots being followed around by a tall man who's distracted. Out of the corner of their eyes. Discreet. Respectful. Curious. They look away as we go past. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. The assistant shows me different coffee tables on a tablet. I try and choose quickly. I forget to look at the prices. For once, I choose the one I want. I turn and think about asking his opinion. It seems rude to ignore him. I feel so awkward now. I just want to leave. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. Not even now as we get to the checkout. Should we join the queue or should I go up to 'our' assistant? I look at him. I'm not sure what to do. For once the other shoppers let me pass. No sighing. No complaints. They all move to let us by. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. Even though I'm having trouble with my credit card. I can't have reached my limit. Can I? Another card? The assistant is unflappable. It's not a problem. I can't remember my PIN number. It's okay. I'm calm. I have cash. I get it out of my bag, trying not to let him see. I don't want him to know how much money I have on me. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. I need him to get everything into one trolley so we can leave. The shop assistant is still smiling. I wonder what she thinks. She's probably planning what to have for dinner. Why should she be interested in us? She is young and strong. They lift the heavy things together. She's standing very close to him now. They are laughing. The other assistant comes over to help. They open the doors for us. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. The fresh air is good. It's a relief to get outside. We walk together towards the car. Was it left or right? We laugh because we can't remember where we parked it. He mutters something as he walks off. Decisive. Too fast for me. I can't keep up with him so I don't run after him. But it's not because he's black.

He won't get off his phone. But I've got used to it now. I've given up. Resigned. I don't care what he thinks. I just want to get my furniture and cushions home - I chose the orange ones. He's found the car and drives round to pick me up. It feels good to be in the car together. He's got such thick thighs and big hands. I love his dreadlocks. He tells me how long it takes to wash and dry them. He is just sooo sexy. I'd like to reach out and touch him. I don't. But it's not because he's black.