Striking Out at Super Target

Freshly showered, it’s time to pick out my wardrobe. I put on my finest polo shirt and my tightest jeans. Pomade in the hair, extra squirt of cologne and I’m looking good. I give myself a final once over and I’m ready to go.

There’s no doubt in my mind that tonight I’ll be breaking some hearts. I’m about to embark on my bi-weekly pilgrimage to the single woman Mecca. I’m going to the store that combines women’s two most favorite tasks; shopping for groceries and toiletries. Yes, I’m going to Super Target, and I’m not leaving without getting me some digits.

Where the hell are my keys? Oh there they are, just where I left them. Damn, that was stressful. I better check myself out in the mirror again; want to make sure I’m looking good. Do I have enough cologne on? I can’t smell it, so there must not be enough. Better give myself another squirt.

My car is a little dirty, should I get it washed? I know I’m just going to Super Target, but what is my potential lover notices that my car is dirty? I better not take any chances.

With a freshly washed car, I arrive at my hunting zone. It’s a good thing I washed the car, too, because there’s a helpless fawn walking into Super Target at the same time as me.

Naturally, we enter the store and find that we’re both in the produce section. She proceeds to the fresh vegetables. I keep my distance by checking out their selection of bananas. I spend several minutes lamenting the logic of buying an entire bushel of bananas, knowing that they will just go to waste. The last 5 times I have bought bananas, at least half of them get old and gross. They somehow manage to go from green and inedible to brown and inedible within 2 days. Is it even possible to eat 5 bananas in 2 days? Fucking bananas really piss me off.

Crap, I must have been thinking about bananas for a while, because when I look back for my helpless fawn, she is no longer in fresh vegetables. I scan the rest of the produce section and finally lock in on her near the oranges.

It’s on, young fawn.

I act quickly this time, not wanting to let her out of my sights. I walk over and grasp an orange. It’s time to work it with my opening line.

“They say you need up to 10 servings a day of fruits and vegetables, but did you know about the new addition to the food pyramid?”

“No. What is it?” she asks curiously.

“Well now the FDA recommends that you get 2-3 servings of ME a day, so how about you add ME to your diet baby.”

“What does that even mean?” she says.

Like she doesn’t know what that means! Either she’s really stupid or my delivery was poor. I’m guessing she’s just really slow. I fake a cough and softly call her a “cock tease”. It’s time to move on to another target.

I decide to skip through the grocery area and go to the section where you can always find quality ladies; cosmetics.

I’m immediately drawn to a super hot chick in sweatpants. Not all girls can pull off the sweat pants look, but this one certainly knows how to work it. Did she just look at me? I can’t really tell, but I better stop loitering anyway.

I move on to another aisle, but she stays on my mind. Was she really looking at me? I better double back to check it out.

She’s not there. Where could she have gone? That sly little fox is playing hard to get, and I’m a bloodhound on her trail. I pick up her scent, so it’s only a matter of time before I find her. There she is. Great, she’s lead me to the feminine products section. There’s no excuse for me to be here, but it may be my only chance to spark a conversation.

I glance over at her and notice she is looking at feminine products. She looks confused, as if she’s having trouble deciding which product to purchase. So, I offer my two cents.

“This may come across as forward, but I’d like to offer you some advice. You might want to get this brand. It says extreme odor protection; you can never be too safe down there! “

She responds in stride “You’re right, that’s very forward. I mean, the first words you say to me are referring to odors from my vagina? And besides that, I don’t think you should be giving me advice about odor protection, buddy. I think you went a little overboard with that cologne you’re wearing.”

She’s obviously a lesbian.

Women love my cologne! There’s no way I’m wearing too much. It’s not even possible to wear too much!

I harshly respond “I’m sorry they don’t make tuna scented cologne – lesbo!” and take off immediately. I don’t even want to give her a chance to reply.

High tailing it out of feminine hygiene lands me right in the frozen foods aisle. It appears as if frozen foods is my last shot. There’s a girl standing near one of the freezers.

She’s a little chubby, but she’ll do. I wonder what she’s picking up. Oh shit, she’s piling “Hungry Man” dinners into her cart. I can’t help but count along as she methodically piles them into her oversized shopping cart. 1, 2… 6! 7! My god, she just threw 7 Hungry Man dinners into her cart!

I hope she’s picking them up for her construction worker boyfriend, because a woman should not be eating Hungry Man dinners at such an alarming rate. At this pace, she’ll be making the transition from “chubby Chelsea” to “fupa Franny” within a matter of weeks.

I can’t decide whether it’s even worthwhile to hit on her. On one hand, she’s a larger girl with Sumo-like eating habits. On the other hand, I’m fucking desperate! None of my moves have worked to this point, and my chances are running out. I decide to go for it.

“I noticed you were picking up some Hungry Man dinners. Are you hungry for a real man?”

Little did I know that I this would open up the proverbial food innuendo floodgates.

“Oh yes, I’m looking for a big man to satisfy my appetite. I’d like to cover you in gravy and butter you like corn on the cob.”

Caught off guard, I respond “umm, I guess we could do that if you…”

“I’m not finished yet! I’d like to cover you in whipped cream…”

“You mean like a whipped cream bikini?” I ask.

“No, more like a whipped cream suit.”

That’s a lot of whipped cream.

About Jeff Sauer

I started blogging in the year 2000, and go in spurts of inspiration followed by long dormancy. I love writing, and your comments keep me going, so comment!

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