Garlic
We returned home in the early evening of that fateful September Saturday reeking, having taste-tested garlic knots, garlic fudge, garlic mustards and dips, cheeses and cheese curds, nuts and nut butters, vinegars, pickles, and hot sauces.
Invisible Ink
One more thing to die of in a ruthless, bloody war: beautiful magenta ink on a love letter.
Triscuits
I did, in fact, want to feel like I was eating a wicker basket.
Heterosexuality
Heterosexuality itself doesn’t have the capacity to inspire passion, to push boundaries, to ignite change.
The Jersey Shore
Rusty antennae form a kind of industrial crown of thorns, and the typeface doesn’t say “beach day” as much as “we interrupt this program to bring you a SEVERE WEATHER ALERT.”
Communal Tooth-Brushing
No performance. No personal space.
Trader Joe’s
Spoiler alert: I get lost in Meijer.
The New York Thruway
The GPS says three hundred miles to the next turn, and the only thing you can do is pop on the next episode of Serial, mentally prepare yourself for the amount of tolls you are going to E-ZPass through, and settle in.
Farmers Markets
If I need a healthier item in a hurry, I can always spend my entire paycheck on just one item at the Lexington Co-op, which is located only a few blocks from my apartment.
Microsoft Paint
Jackson Polluck wishes.
