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Marco turned. The man was about his age, maybe thirty, with a lopsided smile and a canvas tote bag that read I’m Not A Regular Shopper . He was holding a small plastic cup with a toothpick sticking out of it.

Marco walked to aisle seven, coffee forgotten. He looked at the Post-it note again, then back toward the endcap. Sam was already helping an elderly woman try the tahini, but he glanced up and winked. free gay sample

“So, Marco,” Sam said, leaning against the pickle display. “Do you have any other opinions? Pickles? Cheese? The existential dread of a Saturday afternoon?” Marco turned

The man handed him the cup. Marco dipped the toothpick in, tasted. The flavor was bright, nutty, with a kick of something unexpected—smoked paprika, maybe. It was surprisingly good. Marco walked to aisle seven, coffee forgotten

“I’m a generous guy,” Sam said. Then, softer: “See you around, Marco.”

“Well?” the man asked.

Marco felt something loosen in his chest. The fluorescent lights seemed less harsh. The screaming toddler three aisles over faded into background noise.