Heat and paint

I noticed that my vinyl shower curtain was limp today, it's plastic slightly warm, a little more pliable in my hands. I intended to take a cool shower, to alleviate the heat of the day, but the water pressure in my building denied me my desired amount of cool water, leaving me with a quite warm shower instead.
I went to the craft store today, so that I could buy materials to paint with. I was recently given three tubes of acrylic paint, and have been itching to use them.
At the store, the woman at the counter where the bags are checked was busy with another customer and told me to check my own bag, pointing towards a free clip with two identical tags locked in it. I felt a small thrill of freedom as I stepped behind the counter with one foot, and attached the clip and one tag to my bag, taking the other tag to put in my pocket.
I shopped for awhile, thinking about the four things I knew I wanted. The first item, they were out of, and the second item, a new pen, they were nearly out of as well. Actually their selection of pens is diverse, but the brand that I like was mostly gone. I settled on blue pen.
Next, I needed a cheap palette and a brush.
Found the palette easily. $.49; I bought two.
The brush took longer. Their brushes cost from $4-$60 and I took awhile finding the cheapest brush that I liked. As the act of painting came tangibly closer to occurring, I decided that I wanted some more color too, and bought two more tubes: ivory black and cobalt violet.
I went back to the counter to pay, and an oriental man was buying a few things. His facial features, hair, and accent seemed Japanese to me, but I've often been wrong before. I watched him pay and thought about asking him. I thought about what I would say to him. Atsui desu ne? (It's hot outside, yes?) Or: Hajimemashite. (Pleased to meet you.) Perhaps he's in a hurry, and I'd put him in a situation where it would be impolite to rush off, but would make him stressed and quick to end any conversation we might have. There's always something to worry about, isn't there?
I felt hungry, and opted to not attempt waylaying him.
He left, nearly forgetting his change, and it was my turn to pay. My bill came to $20, twice what I planned on. Next time, I won't plan.
I accepted my things, declining a bag, as I'd brought my own that was waiting for me behind the counter. I moved to retrieve bag myself, but was disappointed as she beat me to it.
I thanked her, left, and rode the train home.