I’m at Trader Joe’s buying groceries for the week, and the free-sample counter has little plastic cups of cornbread with corn-chile salsa. I take one. Nearby an employee is talking to an older woman and he suddenly drops his voice as I grab my second sample, as if they were just talking in secret about someone and then the employee caught sight of this person out of the corner of his eye. They both turn and look at me as I pop the cup of cornbread into my mouth like a Jell-O shot.
Originally published as “The Routine,” April 2019 in The Sun.
Read the rest here.