Reggie was in the grocery store when he saw a woman in cut-off jean shorts that did not conceal her lumpy bottom. He took a photo on his phone and posted it on Facebook. He wrote a caption that said, “Skankaaaay!”
The next day, Reggie was back at the grocery store because he drank all of his milk during the night and needed more in order to survive. He went to the dairy aisle and saw the same woman he had seen the day before, but this time she was wearing a big woolen sweater with holes in it and leggings with tiger stripes. Reggie took a picture and posted it on Facebook with the caption “Uglaaaay!”
Reggie got home and opened his milk. It was sour. He went back to the grocery store to return the milk and get a new one. The woman was there again, but she had changed clothes and was wearing a bikini made of sandpaper. Reggie took a photo and was uploading it with the caption “Scratchaaay!” but the woman interrupted him by hitting him in the head with a can of frozen limeade.
Reggie fell to the ground, unconscious. When he awoke, the grocery store was closed and only the fluorescent lights from the freezers were lit. “Hello?” said Reggie. “Hello,” said the woman in the sandpaper bikini. She was sitting on the linoleum in a pool of kefir, eating a piece of Tillamook cheddar and looking through Reggie’s phone.
“What are you doing?” asked Reggie.
“Updating your status,” said the woman.
Reggie realized that he was shirtless, and all of his terrible, disfiguring moles were on full display.
“Please,” said Reggie, “don’t tell anyone about my moles.”
But she did. She told everyone everything about the moles, including the one that resembled a racist pictogram. As Reggie began to cry, the woman in the sandpaper bikini took photos, which she Instagrammed until she was finished with her cheese. Then she left him alone with his moles in the dairy aisle to think about what he’d done.