A slim blond woman is tapping a butternut squash with one finger, and I try very hard not to imagine smashing the squash against her head. I fail. Squash, as it turns out, is a weakness of mine. I wonder whether it would even hold up after being smashed against a human head. It would probably explode and you’d just end up with a headache and squash all over your face. The woman looks up and notices me staring at her. I smile like I wasn’t just imagining bludgeoning her to death. She walks away, casting an alarmed glance over her shoulder at me. I really should try to be less of an asshole.
