I knew that Gabe watched a lot of porn. Everyone knew. You couldn’t go a day without Gabe coming into the grocery store for his shift without him talking about people fucking.
“Hey Jake!” he’d shout from across the store. I’d pretend like I didn’t hear him while I tagged boxes of cereal in aisle ten.
He’d get real close to my ear, like what he had to say was somehow a secret now that he’d yelled across the entire store.
“Did you see that new Playboy? They had a girl from Grand Rapids in there. She was lookin’ pret-ty good.”
I always gave him a polite smile and a nod. Just something you pick up from your parents. Smile and nod. Gets you out of a lot of uncomfortable social stuff.
But this week was different. This week things got a little out of hand.
