internet-slowed fff

flash fiction friday #13, late not because i didn't write to deadline, but because flow can't figure out what unlimited internet access means:

sweating profusely, he reconsidered the slick, smooth object in his hand. was this what he wanted?
he turned it over, inspecting closely, checking aesthetics, checking for flaws, debating whether this was a good choice, the right choice. he put it on the counter and held out his hand for the other option. this one felt better in his hand; the weight of it seemed right, the size felt right.
he picked up the first one again, now holding one in each hand for comparison. the second still felt better, but he preferred the look of the first. he put them down and dragged the back of his forearm across his forehead, then wiped his arm and sweaty palms on his jeans.
eyes still fixed on the potential prize, he pulled a crumpled pack of dumaurier from his back pocket and gestured to the face wrinkling in confusion behind the counter that he’d be right back. he went outside and lit up, wanting the smoke to clear his mind so he could make a decision. he wasn’t sure he should be doing this. he wanted to get the right thing, but should he be encouraging bad habits?
he finished his smoke, shivering a little by the time he was done, thinking how crazy it was that anybody still smoked cigarettes under these conditions – going outside all winter long, every time you needed a nicotine fix; who did that? talk about taking all the joy out of vice. he realised that by the time he got home he might have to do the same thing, but at least home all he had to worry about was rain. as he walked back into the store he wondered if the new law would affect his habit, thought that maybe it was time to quit anyway, shrugged the thought off as quickly and involuntarily as it popped up.
he stepped back toward the counter, gauging the two pieces he was considering from distance as he approached, to see if it made any difference to his opinion. they were both beautifully blown, colourful, exactly what she’d like; and he realised that he was the last person to judge somebody else’s bad habits. he smiled at the thought of her excited face when she opened the box, and instantly knew this was the right gift.
he bought his instinctive first choice; it was prettier, and the fact that it felt almost a little too light in his hand would make it perfect for her. he turned it over again, noticing that the design was more intricate than he’d thought, imagining her appreciation of the artistry the first time she used the pipe. she’d been talking about getting one since amsterdam and had really wanted to come on this trip too; when she saw what he brought back for her she wouldn’t care about missing shopping in new york, especially after she opened the next piece he was shopping for.
he paid and left the head shop with the glass pipe wrapped in tissue paper, pleased enough that his anxiety about his next purchase faded until he found the store. one look at the lingerie in the window and the discreet sign promising “toys” inside, and the sweating started again.
gripping his first gift for confidence in his abilities, he inhaled and went brave. as he crossed the threshold a bell tinkled announcing his presence, and a cute salesgirl appeared at his side. nervousness slipped the plastic bag from his sweaty hand, and the last thought he had before lack of oxygen to his brain dropped him to the floor next to it was how similar the breaking glass sounded to the bell that welcomed him to the wonderful world of sex, and how much better this gift would have to be now that there was only one…

walk good.