midmarket checkout lady with fuchsia nails that cut out of black rubber gloves and doe eyes asks if i want to get a free pack of AN *ahem* REVOLUTIONARY NEW CHERRY FLAVOR OF A WELL-KNOWN CIGARETTE BRAND i notice the whimsicallly ironic way shes tryina fill a quota unsuccessfuly so far i say yeah sure whatever but i dont smoke then leave the store an acne studios spiritual ancestor homeless guy asks if i have a loosie why not i hand him the whole pack cause 'no esli est v karmane pachka cigaret znachit' but he says cherry? nah thays gay as fuck. am i experiencing anonymous distributed power structures of chromophobia what do i do with the pack