September 1, 2009


"Tell me your fantasies and I'll eat a peach"

Today I was in line at the local grocers, and there was this fit lady in front of me who was wearing little shorts and a sports brassiere. Predictably, she was buying a shitload of fruit and when she tried to fit a bushel of peaches into her little, already stuffed backpack they spilled all over the place. One such peach disappeared somewhere under the checkout conveyor belt table (?), lost forever amidst pennies, dust and maybe a lost world where tiny dogs dress in silk caps. Not one to give up, Ms. Sports took it upon herself to get down on her hands and knees and search for the outcast peach with me standing awkwardly behind her, wondering what I should do while waiting for a register to open up.

It occurred to me to help her find it, but I had already retrieved one for her, and as mentioned, I didn't really support the expedition to begin with. I'd like to think my lack of participation sent a clear message that the search was in vain and that 6-8 surviving peaches remained intact and ready to be eaten, pied or hollowed out for a traditional Malloween (First Wednesday in September. Have you painted your jelly beans yet?) decoration. Plus, I doubt her little bag would've supported an additional peach, so unless she was planning on a post-shopping chow down, transportation most certainly would've been an issue.
But I felt weird just standing there at her feet doing nothing. Also, since this woman was wearing barely any clothes, I was aware that perhaps my standing over her could be misconstrued as "pervy", leading to heightened anxiety. I pride myself on my ability to scope babes without them, or anyone around me noticing and the situation I found myself in seemed almost like a test of these abilities, like a guy on a diet who finds a pie or a hamburger cooling on an unattended window sill.

Just as I was reaching the point when I had been standing there longer than I felt comfortable, I was summoned to the next available cashier and the pressure was relieved. In conclusion, if you drop a damn peach and you can't get it - give up, because peaches DO grow on trees and your backpack probably isn't big enough anyway.

Did anyone else watch the Degrassi Goes Hollywood TV movie? It was no School's Out and unfortunately no one died, but it was dumb enough to be entertaining, but not dumb enough that it was unwatchable. The best part was how easily it was to predict what was going to happen next. It was essentially one big cliche with a few totally crappy cameos thrown in for good measure - sounds like my ill-fated sweet sixteen masquerade, hosted by Alfonso Ribeiro with musical guests "Mr. Mister".

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