Once upon a time, when I was still a clumsy person with an incredible talent for breaking things, I went to the grocery store. I think something went wrong before I even walked through the door.

First, I came across boxes of goods displayed on the floor. It seems that the store has decided to organize a new sport - jumping over obstacles in the form of boxes. I tried to overcome this with dignity, but as a result I almost capsized, taking a falling style in front of everyone.

Next, I decided to calm down, walking along the aisle between the shelves. But then I came across a jar of butter, which seemed to be made of soap or ice. It slipped through my hands like a potter's wheel under inexperienced hands. I tried to catch her, but this only accelerated her path to the floor.

It felt like the whole store witnessed my performance. I ran after her like I was in a chase movie. This time I was the winner in the race - the can broke, creating an effect like in a movie, when everything slows down and flies into pieces in different directions.

Continuing on my way, I came across a stack of goods on a cart that had been knocked down right after my “dance with the can.” It seemed like I passed by, but this stack made a suicidal leap, breaking at my feet.

Finally, I reached the cash register, where my "breaker career" reached its apogee: the pen fell from my bag, rolled across the floor and came to rest at the cashier's feet. He looked at her, then at me, and I caught his involuntary smile, trying to hide the inner desire to ask me to stay and entertain the visitors.

As I left the store, I decided that my adventure today was an exceptional way to leave an impression. And I left, hoping that the next person who broke something would be more confused than I was.