And when I say hot, I mean it! Justin is a hottie lamottie with a summer’s body. Let me tell you about the time we first met...
It was a mild spring morning, about 9:30 AM, as I walked down the Santa Monica sidewalk. The cracks in the pavement gave me determination for my one goal for the morning. A trip to Whole Foods, ingredients for low-fat, vegan, gluten free avocado toast. Each step felt like I had been birthed into a new life of pure wonder, the rejuvenation wrestling through my blood vessels like a pack of ferrets fighting over the charred remains of a camper’s hot dog. It was a special day.
As the morning sun cut its way through the dark blue sky of the California skyline, my thoughts raced about the day ahead of me. What kind of pepper spread was I going to buy? What type of gluten free bread will pair best with my homemade apple butter sitting at home? Only time could tell as I made my way to the entrance of my favorite grocery store. The smell of freshly picked parsley and seared tofu danced around my flickering nostrils as the automatic doors of the palace awakened the foodie inside me. First ingredient on the list: avocados, or aguacates, abokados, abacates.
I made my way to the produce aisles with fervent and great enthusiasm, the sound of the linoleum floor ever-so-slightly gliding under the powerful soles of my Kenneth Cole boots from Nordstrom, the sight of bright green orchards on the wall art around me, the sounds of bustling importance floating through my ears. People are doing amazing things right now, as am I.
The avocados greet me in their perfectly-slashed wooden bins. $4.99/pound: perfectly fits my meager budget. My hand flies through the air to grab and test the perfect specimens. An intruder pervades my personal space as the burglar of a rich community takes their violent anger out on the setting. My eyes glance up. He’s going for the same one I am, and as I soon realized who dared to stop my pilgrimage today, I just had to stand and stare.
“J-J-Justin?” I stammer.
“That’s right,” he gleams, the flicker in his beautiful eyes lit by the soft white luminescence of the castle, “Trey Likes B-Bands?” His stutter makes me feel good.
My eyes glance back down at the avocado I reached for, my shyness very much apparent at this point. The intruder’s hand lets go of my property and maneuvers like a nosediving plane onto my goosebump-ladened forearm.
His voice is reassuring, “What are you cooking this morning?”
“Oh, just some avocado toast. I really should be goin-“
His lips are ginger and warm, soft and comforting, consoling and damning. The pull-away gives me more to feel unease yet pleasure.
Justin starts, “Me too... low-fat, vegan-“
“Gluten free!” we share the words in everlasting excitement.
I peak, “Never have I ever found somebody so understanding and thoughtful.” He raises his hand as if to slap me across the face, but puts one finger down. A jokester here.
“Why don’t we make it... together,” the words struggle to escape.
“I’d be honored Justin.” The conversation was ten thousand orgasms, winning the lottery, getting struck by lightning, feeling a rejuvenation comparable to listening to Maghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass” for the first time. That day, the avocado toast still resting gently in our stomachs forever, was the most important day of my life. He wrote “Yummy” about the toast, the avocados, aguacates... for me, and only me.
FAV TRACKS: Forever
LEAST FAV: literally everything else.