Straight from a run, covered in mud and sweat, I went to the grocery store to get bananas and coffee filters. Standing in the produce is a late 20s, early 30s couple. The guy is tall and scruffy in worn Carharts and Chacos. The gal is very pretty, rocking a bit of smudged mascara, nice boots and the hood up on her puffy. If I had to guess I’d say it was the morning after the 2nd date. The guy points out the Chanterelles in the case. The gal’s response, “I hate mushrooms.”

“Really?! You hate them?”  he says.

Then he looks at me over in banana land. And I sort of make this grimace, the uhoh-you’re-screwed-face. And he laughs. Out loud. “You think that’s a deal breaker,” he says. I sort of shrug and smile. Then the gal notices. He says, “She thinks this might be a deal breaker.” She’s not amused, and I’m a jerk.

She strides off, “Well, at least we’re having breakfast.”

Strike one up for the socially inept. I should get out more. Or less.

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