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.