There's this girl at Trader Joe's I'm kind of in love with. A cute bottle blonde, she's always there when I come to shop. It's kind of disconcerting, as I arrive at the most random of times. She always has a frazzled look, like she's just on the border of a breakdown. I think that's what makes me love her. I don't know if she's like that because she apparently lives in the grocery store, or some other unknown trauma that haunts her. I don't actually want to know. It would probably kill the appeal. It's not like I could do anything to actually fix her life. Or that she even needs some stupid ass coming in and trying to "fix" her. The very notion is an idealistic conceit born pity of arrogance. Why the fuck would my worldview or lifestyle be the way to guide anyone? Her name is Katy. Just learned that today. Not from talking to her, though. Didn't really have the courage to do that. Just happened to catch her nametag as I was passing by.
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