Franz Kafka Goes Shopping

A sharp dressed
woman with a real job,
pointy black shoes, half
my age and scarey moves nearby.

What am I?
Where am I going?
They will suspect me.
Why did I come in here?

I don't even know how
they expect me to use them.
They will turn
their cameras on me.

So I'll be poor and clumsy.
And whatever I buy,
won't be enough.