Crime


                                            There wasn't a single moment that defined my life. But rather, a single style.

                                            Crime, baby.

                                            That's all it took for me to be alive.

                                            For me to feel like a human fucking being.

                                            Goddamn.

                                            It was a summer night, bordering on that sweet sweet autumn breeze coming in.

                                            I was minding my own business on the edge of town.

                                            Working my bullshit job as a stockboy in some supermarket.

                                            When she walked in.

                                            Looking damn good.

                                            Boots, skirt, top, headband, the whole deal.

                                            I wanted what she was offering if you catch me.

                                            All I did was throw some product on the shelves near her and I could already tell sparks were flying.

                                            She asked me whilst we were in the pasta aisle, "Hey, do you have any, uhm.. angel hair anywhere?"

                                            I responded, "Well... Besides yours, we should have some in aisle 7."

                                            And that's all it took, boys.

                                            The perfect crime.