Did you guys hear we moved to a new office? Haha jk. Did you hear anything else, at all, about any other topics since we moved? Jk again. I’ll be a great commenter someday.

The new location means I have to find a new lunch spot. Before, I would walk 20 feet to Sweet Green and scream at them for underscooping my servings of shaved almonds. After discovering how inferior the salads were when you order them online, I started ordering them in person. This took more time out of my day, which spurred me to furiously contact their corporate offices and suggest they decrease the salaries of the offending location’s employees by 12%—enough for them to feel it, but not so much as to make me a monster. They said they would “consider it,” to which I asked “what’s there to consider?” At that, they told me to lower my voice. I said “we’re on the phone, just turn down the volume on your end.” Then they hung up, before I could mention that my paternal great-grandfather was the governor of New Jersey.

Here now, I have to find a new place to get my lunch. I can’t go to unhealthy places because I’m not one of those “people,” and I use that term generously. Whole Foods is four blocks away, and their prepared foods/salad bar tend to have good, albeit expensive, options. The trick is knowing to fill your cardboard salad box with stuff that doesn’t weigh very much, then add a couple heavier items on top. Another trick is to steal it, but stuffing your pockets with wet orzo can ruin a phone quick. And a third trick is to spend more money on healthier food options and less money on whatever it is that overweight people do with their… their lives? For example, I don’t spend any money at county fairs. Fried dough, rides, shitty games—the money I might spend there as a fatso, I allocate instead towards the Whole Foods salad bar. Case closed.

The problem I have with Whole Foods is that whenever I walk through their doors, I fully expect to meet my wife. With 100% certainty, I know that my wife and I will meet at Whole Foods (my current girlfriend and I did not meet at Whole Foods, which is why we both know it’s only a matter of time). The store is a self-selecting dating app. Those who shop there have similar values. The brand has done the background check for me: no need to read her pap smear results, no need to ask about a history of mental illness in her family. I envision us standing over a crate of organic hass avocadoes—currently on sale for Prime members, h/t Beez—gently squeezing the ‘does for firmness until we reach for the same one. Her hand over mine, our fingers interlock, and we look up, smile, and I quickly send one sperm to headbutt her egg towards all-male triplets that she will bear in her womb for an unprecedented 14-month term, each extra day guaranteeing my boys get the nourishment they need to start life with ten-pound advantages over other basic, on-time children. World, please welcome Arvydis, Usain, and Shaquille.

As it were, today, I was filling my box with the lighter layers when I saw an angel at the prepared foods counter. She wore a cream sweater with detachable sleeves. In realizing that her sleeves were removable, I knew immediately I loved her. It’s entirely possible, even likely, that the buttons on her sleeves were ornamental details festooned by the hand of some upstart designer. But I prefer my way, which lends credence to my love’s preparedness for temperature fluctuations. I once owned a pair of pants that zipped off into shorts. It was the best year of my life.

I followed her around the store. If she entered an aisle, I went to the next aisle and separated boxes of rice pilaf (my side) and albacore tuna (her side) to create a window through which to observe her choices. In the end, I don’t know what she was looking for. She didn’t add anything beyond what she’d bought for lunch. Haha peruse away, bright angel! Follow your nose. And for God’s sake, take those ridiculous sleeves off. Let those fucking pipes breathe.

Of course we entered the checkout lanes at the same time. As we advanced, I kept my eyes forward, but I focused through my peripheral vision. She looked like an elegant, upright lamb, mostly because images in the extreme corners of my eyes are fuzzy. Then she took a phone call from, as it turned out, her mother. They laughed about her sister. I guess she’s hunting for a new apartment, in the Village? Haha she’ll need a new job first, if she expects to live in the village on HER salary. God, what a delusional bitch. But family is family, and we accept her in spite of her quirks.

Then things took a turn weird. We walked six blocks together, back towards our offices, walking abreast of each other, matching strides. She certainly noticed me. Especially when we came upon a puppy. I surged ahead to make a show of petting it, which I thought she would find endearing, but she didn’t make much of it. That sucked. Michaela Vick over here. On she went with a heart of stone. I skipped quietly to catch up, and then I was at my door, and she continued on. I could have followed her to see exactly where she works but that’s stalking. So I gave up and went back to whatever it is that I do here.

So I’m over her. Writing this helped. Turns out, she’s a bad person. It’s amazing how much you can learn about someone just from watching her shop for groceries, listening to her phone conversations, and following her for five blocks. I learned that she wasn’t the person she wanted me to think she was. That whole charming sleeve charade was an act, a colorful tarp over a pile of rotting leaves. I’ll leave you with this: sometimes, a good miss is better than throwing your entire life away to chase a woman you observed for 10 minutes. Write that down.

PS- I know it’s long. But reading is like jogging. If it’s hard for you, start small and add a few more words each day. Push yourself and stick with it. Eventually, you’ll be able to read a whole chapter in one sitting. Don’t give up!