“So, Marco,” Sam said, leaning against the pickle display. “Do you have any other opinions? Pickles? Cheese? The existential dread of a Saturday afternoon?”
Marco glanced at the tiny cup. He wasn’t sure he had any opinions on tahini at all. But the man’s eyes were a warm, curious brown, and his flannel shirt had a small mustard stain on the collar that Marco found inexplicably endearing.
Marco felt something loosen in his chest. The fluorescent lights seemed less harsh. The screaming toddler three aisles over faded into background noise.
Marco walked to aisle seven, coffee forgotten. He looked at the Post-it note again, then back toward the endcap. Sam was already helping an elderly woman try the tahini, but he glanced up and winked. free gay sample
Marco hated grocery shopping on Saturday afternoons. The aisles were a traffic jam of shopping carts and screaming toddlers. But he’d run out of coffee, and some existential boredom had driven him out of his studio apartment.
Marco looked at the cup. Scrawled in blue ink: Sam, 555-2027. Call me when you run out of opinions.
He smiled. “That’s a generous sample.” “So, Marco,” Sam said, leaning against the pickle
“That one’s free,” Sam said, handing it over. “The tahini, I mean. And my number.”
He was staring blankly at an endcap display of artisanal pickles when a voice cut through the noise.
Sam looked at his nearly full sample tray, then back at Marco. He grabbed a Post-it note from the demo station, scribbled something, and stuck it to the last clean sample cup. Cheese
“Excuse me. You look like a person with opinions.”
The man handed him the cup. Marco dipped the toothpick in, tasted. The flavor was bright, nutty, with a kick of something unexpected—smoked paprika, maybe. It was surprisingly good.