Rite Aid Boy

An unsuspecting candy craver and a cashier,

He saw our life together while I waited for my receipt.

I’ve never been one to pick out suitors here,

And I’ve never so awkwardly looked down at my feet.

“Rachel right? Don’t I know you?” No, no sir.

“Well, I like you, I like your energy,” he said.

Whoa, whoa, whoa man, you’re making my stomach stir.

I don’t mean to be rude, but this doesn’t work in my head.

We aren’t going out, friend. Could this transaction take

Any more time?! I just want my candy and to leave.

I thought I would run in and this would be a piece of cake!

But now this never-ending conversation is making me heave.

Rite Aid boy, you are probably very nice and I wish you well,

But I am about to run out of here like a bat out of hell. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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