There are two friendly neighborhood general store clerks in my vicinity. I have to take a break from one because he asked me out and I said I don’t have a phone and ran away. I went to the other one to see if he had the kind of razor blades that I use, and he didn’t, but he offered me some Bic disposables. I told him I needed another kind, but he told me his kind was really good. He seemed kind of sad that I didn’t want them, so I pretended like I did actually like them and I bought them. Then he didn’t have my change, so he gave me some candies of the same value instead. It was all cute enough until I came out of the shower and saw the streams of blood running down my legs. And out of two points in the centers of my palms. Just kidding. But I seriously did cut myself pretty badly.
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