what you can't learn - by jaron - the way home

There's a tall, lanky guy at the cash register. Charismatic. You can tell by the way he carries himself with a slight lean against the counter, oversized vintage tee, loose, 5-inch inseam shorts, tastefully contrasting forest green brimmed hat. The way his words effortlessly flow out of his mouth, enveloping the polite cashier with a sensuous cloak of carefully selected sentences that cascade into a smile.