\n\nAnd so a month after they built the fifth Wal-Mart in our county, a little coffee shop opened just a few yards away. \u00a0
\nMy coworker Rick said it looked like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb any surrounding properties.
\n\u201cThe coffee shop?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cNo, Wal-Mart is the amoeba.\u201d
\n\u201cOh.\u201d
\nWhen I got back to my desk, I typed \u2018amoeba\u2019 into Google and realized that I had incorrectly pictured a centipede.
\n\u201cFuck Rick,\u201d I thought. \u201cI don\u2019t need any more friends, anyway. I\u2019m on friend overload.\u201d
\nAt dinner that night, the Wal-Mart came up again when my wife Diane mentioned how ugly it was to see another gigantic shopping center taking up space in our town.
\n\u201cIt looks like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb that little coffee shop,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd then the coffee shop is like a centipede.\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t think amoebas eat centipedes. And besides, that\u2019s the point.\u201d
\nDiane went on to explain that the coffee shop, though legitimate and functioning by all measures, was really an art piece constructed by a group of private donors in response to the new Wal-Mart.
\n\u201cThe idea is that we\u2019re intentionally not supposed to go to the coffee shop. That way, Wal-Mart customers will be forced to observe the gradual decay of a local business every time they enter the store.\u201d
\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ve been going there all week,\u201d I said. \u201cI think the coffee is top-notch stuff. Plus, it\u2019s on my way to work.\u201d
\n\u201cThe coffee is supposed to be mediocre,\u201d said Diane. \u201cKeeping within the budget of most struggling businesses. It\u2019s supposed to be virtually undrinkable.\u201d
\n\u201cHmm\u2026well I really like it.\u201d
\n\u201cWell, you can\u2019t keep going or else you\u2019ll ruin the project.\u201d
\n\u201cThis is America,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd if I want a cup of mediocre, overpriced coffee, by god I will have it!\u201d
\nOver the next several months, I kept drinking the coffee. Some days I even went twice. The quality of the coffee, I was told, gradually worsened as a result of my unwavering interest, but I never noticed and so I had no choice but to doubt the rumors.
\nMy doubt remained intact even after overhearing a private conversation between the coffee shop\u2019s manager and the cashier. I was standing by a tree and watching a teenager back his car into another car and I guess they didn\u2019t see me.
\n\u201cI know,\u201d said the cashier. \u201cI\u2019ve tried that, but it\u2019s like he doesn\u2019t have taste buds.\u201d
\n\u201cWell, he\u2019s single-handedly fucking up this entire thing.\u201d
\n\u201cSo what then, poison? Would he even drink poison?\u201d
\n\u201cNow, that\u2019s an interesting idea.\u201d
\n\u201cStupid teenage drivers,\u201d I thought.
\nIn the end, they poisoned the coffee. I made it a month after that, but my failing eyesight and ravaged kidneys eventually left me bed-ridden.
\n\u201cWell, they just opened another location,\u201d said Diane. \u201cBusiness is booming. I hope you\u2019re happy.\u201d
\nAnd I wasn\u2019t happy, but I was somehow content and I thought about everything: Wal-Mart, art projects, even little amoebas crawling through the forest, one-hundred legs working beautifully in tandem.
\n\u201cNobody ever wins in these kinds of things,\u201d said Diane.
\n\u201cBut if you had to pick a winner, you\u2019d probably pick me because the coffee shop was on my way to work.\u201d
\nDiane sighed and left the room. I dozed off and in my dream, they did pick a winner. They picked me and I was led over to a small stage to choose my prize: A brand new recliner or two new kidneys!
\n\u201cThe recliner,\u201d I inquired. \u201cHow far back are we talking?\u201d
\n
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