Fish Girl by Theo Junior
All Rainbow Trout Needs is a Little Olive Oil
Missed Connections in Seattle, WA
My immediate reaction was “oh, cute fish market guy is helping the customer,”
not “cute fish market boy is saying hi to cute fish buying girl.”
Well, cute fish buying girl will be coming around again next Tuesday for her rainbow trout 🙂
Her Two Cents offers daily commentary on missed connections selected to appear on Lovelorn Poets.
Her Two Cents on All Rainbow Trout Needs Is A Little Olive Oil
Here’s another in our ever growing list of Supermarket Stories! We follow yesterday’s bird-girl with a little fish-girl (not planned, just kind of happened… that’s the beauty of Creative Commons, you never know what you’re going to find from one day to the next). I love the features in this creature by Theo Junior – beautiful and scary and dark but sensual all at the same time.
Gentle Readers: Perhaps it all depends on where you live, but I have to admit that I’ve never come across ANYONE in my local grocery store – worker, shopper, bottle-deposit returner, or otherwise – who caught my eye for any reason. What about you? What’s your local grocery store like? Is it full of beautiful, happy people inspecting the fresh produce and one another – or is it something a little less sexy?
Funny you should mention it. It happened just the other day.
Me, in line at one end of the grocery store; her, tending the register at the far end, no customers in line, looking straight at me, smiling. I gathered my consumables and made a beeline. I find myself hoping that elderly gent with the cart doesn’t roll up to her, and what do you know, he doesn’t. I enter her domain. She allows me in. “I saw your b-beaming face from across the room,” I stutter, wondering why I said it. She averts a shy smile and, blushing, rings up my bottle of Mad Housewife wine. I go to pay, she goes to bag. “Is this for your mad housewife? she asks. “No,” I say. “She already went mad. And left.” “Oh,” is all she says then, and again she looks sad. But only briefly. She beams that smile again, thanks me and I say bye, leave the store. But like the fish-buying girl, I’ll be coming around again next Tuesday.
Theo, you are the lovelorn poet. May your sleeping and waking dreams be filled with shyly suggestive shop-ettes, fish-girls with rosebud lips, and “mad-in-a-good-way” housewife wine drinking companions. There is nothing that a Tarkovsky film-marathon can’t cure.
Thanks for the short order, cook.