They sauntered into the store, a rag-tag group of five. The two girls were heavy-set and dressed in tight jeans or layers of peasant-style skirts and blouses. The three guys were tall, skinny, and hunched over in their droopy jeans. The unwashed smell was thick and their greasy, lank hair slid out from under hoodies and stained wool caps.
One girl bounced up to the counter and said she worked at a local restaurant and had heard about the shop for weeks from her customers. She appeared the only one who had an honest interest. The others lined up in front of the steel tanks, gulping tastes of the oils and vinegars. I watched with a feeling of unease and indecision. They began to spread out in the store, chatting and sampling. One of the males sidled up to the counter, openly eying my laptop left untethered by the cash drawer. I…
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