Mid April, I was in the bread isle of the Safeway on 17th and Corcoran, a block away from our apartment. Jeans and a SigEp t-shirt, I carried a basket of chicken tenders, tomatoes, and olive oil. My hair is still wet from a shower and my black Tevas are still wet too. She walks up from behind me and whispers in my ear. I feel the warmth of her body first and then a whisp of her long blonde hair on my arm. She whispers softly but quickly, "I didn't realize there were so many hot guys in this Safeway."