Rain covered the glass doors. The wind slow blowing them dry before a random rain cloud would wet them again. I had been standing before these glass doors for the better part of ten minutes now. They were the sliding doors on my road to hypocrisy. The question that remained was, did I care? Had I ever been a man of principals? Yes. Yes, I had been. Did they bring me a lot of good things? Not in particular. Did they bring me a ton of shit? Most definite. But they had also defined me, made me into the man I was now. The bastards.

I took a step backward but a kid, just sixteen by the looks of it, walked out of the store. The warm and pleasant air drifted over me like a sea of puppies. Screw principals, I'm cold, bored and alone. I think I deserve to let my character falter a little and try out this new thing that destroyed my life. Destroyed my life might be a harsh conclusion. Throat cancer destroyed a life. Digitize just made mine worse.

I took a step forward again as the teen watched me with confused eyes before passing me by and leaving me behind. Like everyone else in my life. I should stop coming up with metaphors but they were staring me right in the face. The warm air embraced me with its thousand-armed reach, dragging me inside. I was still outside but I could already smell the new that used to irritate me. New was my opposite. Its smell reminding me of that first day I had hemorrhoids.

Some people say you start feeling old the moment your children said 'you wouldn't understand' while talking about the latest hype. I say you start feeling old the moment you can't push your shit out anymore without risking going to the doctor to burn the hemorrhoids away. The smell is awful. The look on her face almost worth it. After, pooping never felt the same. It used to be a relief. Now it was a chore to be ever so gentle as I pressed the poo past my sore anus. I never spend a day in jail, but I am sure I had felt their struggles. I would not have been a gracious prison bitch.

As my thoughts trailed off, I made it through the glass sliding doors and into the heavenly warmth of the store. It wasn't big. The stores in the city could grow huge depending on where you looked for them. Here in the suburbs, they were smaller as the clientele grew smaller. Most people would use the local digitize store. It was like going to the doctor.

I walked over the aisle flanked by digitize helmets in every color imaginable. It was the only thing they sold. That and their services when they broke, or when you started. There was a small line of three people waiting with their digitize helmet in hand. The two clerics were not enthusiastic about fast forwarding the line.

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"Do you have the ticket of purchase?" The fat kid asked as he pushed his glasses back further on his nose. His face bored. His voice monotone.

"I told you already ok, I lost it! Can't you just fix it? I will pay whatever repair cost there might be!" The adolescent, hoodie wearing, masculine sounding voice pleaded. I couldn't see his face but it was clear the situation was annoying him. Or it was a 'she' who I couldn't be certain. Nothing was certain anymore. When I was a twenty-year-old at least I knew I was bringing a female back to my bed. If he had to trust Norma's stories It wasn't all that sure these days. It didn't matter for me though, society would see me entertaining a twenty-year-old as obscene and disgusting at my age. Reasonable, but sad.

The hoodie hadn't impressed the bored kid as he kept its monotone voice activated while saying "Sorry sir, If you do not have a ticket of purchase, we can't fix your machine due to the personalization made to your digitize helmet. Per law, we cannot touch the helmet of a customer until we confirm he or she has given us permission to look into highly personal data. As you have no proof of being the customer in question, nor that you are the owner of the digitize helmet in your possession we cannot help you. This is why, we as a service team, always strongly recommend keeping the ticket in a safe location. If you have a complaint, please go to our environment in the digital world and file the appropriate forms. If not, please buy a new helmet or leave the line. There are more people waiting, and we are almost closing." A small smile appeared on my face. A perfect loop to keep selling new helmets.

The part about almost closing wiped my smile off quite fast. The hoodie was about to make a scene when the guy behind him grabbed his shoulder and said in a deep baritone voice "Please decide before I make it for you." The guy was easily two meters, his shoulder muscles bulging out of the leather jacket, a pink digitize helmet under his arm. His other hand holding the tiny hand of a little girl about the same age as little Rey. I hadn't even seen the little girl up till now, but I could see the face of mister hoodie going from anger to fear in just a few moments. I think I even saw a few of his piercings change color but I'm not up to date on fashion.

The hoodie did a quick spin and turned back around towards the counter and grabbed his helmet. He was about to leave when a thought hit him. He turned around, the big fellah inching closer, as he said, "How am I supposed to reach your digital environment when my helmet is broken?" A fair question but one I already knew the answer to. Sometimes it paid off to be alive for seventy-four years. The bored cleric gave it anyway as he answered "Buy a new one, Next!"

The big guy bumped the punk out of the way who was staring daggers into the fatty. These things were not cheap. Even I knew that much. The hoodie left the store without buying a new helmet. I would have bet he made the stampede because he lacked the resources to buy a new one. But I didn't care. All I cared about was that there were only two people left between me and breaking ancient vows and values. What I did not sacrifice for some new porn.