My produce dude at Whole Foods might know me just as well as some of my closest friends. We’ve built quite the relationship.
Yea.. he’s MY produce dude. Miguel gets to work at 4am.
He’s in the produce restocking business… and he has to get his ducks in a row before 7am rolls around, and the store opens.
I saunter in around 7:30am. I generally have ridiculous bedhead, sunglasses on indoors, a scarf wrapped around my head, and lip gloss… always lip gloss. Miguel has seen some truly unfortunate morning fashion choices. Maybe he judges. If so, at least he does so with kind eyes.
Maybe I look like one of those dishevelled, incognito super famous people… except that I’m not at all.
Miguel always greets me. We talk about what I’m about to cook. He picks up an apple and slices it for me to sample. He tells me about how many beers he is going to drink when he gets off of work, and what he’s going to do with his family over the weekend. That’s about as much conversation as I can muster at such an early hour.
I think he and I have high-fived once. I initiated it… surely it was awkward.
He gave me a smushed avocado once, and I acted like he was giving me a brick of gold. Also awkward.
I wonder what Miguel is doing right now.
Probably stacking potatoes and chatting up the girl that does her produce shopping everyday at 10:30am. She probably likes apple slices too.
Hm… she’s probably more chatty and less awkward. But I’m probably cuter.
And yes… I’m totally comparing myself to a fictional girl I just made up in my head. Whatevs. I’m over it.