Jacob Aiello

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 as I grab another sample he suddenly drops his voice, like they were just gossiping about someone and then the employee caught sight of the subject of their gossip out of the corner of his eye. They both turn to look at me as I pop the second cup of cornbread into my mouth like a Jell-O shot.

Originally published as “The Routine,” April 2019 in The Sun.

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