“Be safe,” the grocery checkout girl says as I grab my box of orzo and turn to leave.
From what, I wonder? Had there been a surge in pasta-related fatalities? Were packets of orzo exploding in homes across America and, if so, why are these dangerous things still on the shelf?
Or was it some kind of threat?
“Have a great weekend and be safe,” says the flight attendant over the intercom as we stand to deplane.
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