Kanye loves Kanye, by Jamie HancockPieter-Jannick Dijkstra/ Composite: Jamie Hancock

Taking Liberties

There is nothing new under the sun. It is common human knowledge that the only truly original ideas spring directly from the mind of Kanye West. Apparently he just invented freedom of speech.

I look up from my phone as the cashier calls me forward. The words are barely out of his mouth and he’s already tired of waiting for me. I step forward and order. He sighs but calls the order back. Like he’s doing me a favour.

I look back at my phone while I wait. I guess he’s trying to be edgy. Kanye, that is. Trying to stay ahead of the curve. Or maybe he’s just crazy. Except we’re not supposed to say that.

“That’ll be five dollars.” I hadn’t even noticed the cashier was back. It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to me. He raises his eyebrows. I finally stammer a response and take the money out of my pocket.

I run my eyes over him. I don’t like his attitude. Or his limp wrist. But we’re not supposed to say that either.

I like Kanye. I can’t get mad at Kanye. And he’s got some decent points. His opinions aren’t tidy but at least they’re his opinions.

The cashier thrusts my bag at me without even looking up. I don’t take it. I stare at him for a moment.

He finally turns to me. “Is there a problem, sir?”

The thing is, I don’t agree with Kanye. But I believe Kanye. I believe that he means what he says. That he’ll say what he means even if people aren’t ready to hear it.

I snatch the bag from the cashier’s hand. My skin brushes his and I recoil. I hold eye contact as I wipe his touch away on my jeans.

“No problem, ma’am.”

The cashier winces. Someone behind me sniggers and someone else is tutting. That’s enough. I walk away.

That line about Kanye was pretty good though. I might tweet that.