Okay, it’s Monday night. Most of the people going grocery shopping
on a Monday night are single, and I don’t think I’m the only one that understands this. You can also go shopping on Thursday night if you’re single, but then that means that you’re stocking up because you’re not going to do anything over the weekend
except sit at home and eat Totino’s Pizza Rolls on the couch, which means you’re a loser. If you’re shopping on Monday, then you’re stocking up for meals-for-one for the entire week, and they you’ll go out on the weekend.
There’s an incredibly hot chick now. That happened faster than I expected. I should’ve known: the produce section always delivers. Okay, all I have to do is check out the inventory of her cart, replicate her cart contents exactly in my cart, and then magically appear in the checkout line behind her. We’ll start talking about food, I’ll work the conversation to hardcore boning, and boom goes the dynamite. Let’s see what she’s got so far:
She’s definitely single. Only a single chick would buy that many jars of pickles. Hmm. There are only a few things I’ll actually eat in that cart. Good choice on the generic orange soda. Orange soda is orange soda, right? What’s with the bread, though? Is she gonna make a sandwich? That’s not microwavable! That’s okay, though. I just have to focus here: my goal is not finding food, it’s finding poon. But if she ends up buying some of that Jamie Lee Curtis diarrhea yogurt, I’m giving up on her.
This chick is buying a lot of milk. Maybe she’s calcium defficient. I could use this to my advantage somehow. I’ve got it: I can make up something about how my semen has a lot of calcium in it. That sounds believable, right? It’s tough to tell how much a chick knows about semen, though. For all I know, she could be a semen expert. Maybe she’s a semenologist. Then she’d totally call my bluff and I’d be done for. Maybe I should hold off on that line for a bit. She could also have diabetes. I would not want to sleep with a chick that has diabetes. Wait, can young hot girls even get diabetes? I thought only old guys with mustaches who were in John Carpenter’s The Thing could get diabetes. Maybe she’s one of those old people that looks really young, like that Party of Five guy.
What if her blood sugar dropped too low and she passed out while we were doing it? Would that be weird or awesome? It’s hard to tell. I guess if she died that would be weird. Or would that be awesome, too? No, that would definitely be weird. It would be a great story, but it would still be weird. Okay, it’s check out time. Let’s do this. I’ll just ease a little closer, make sure my cart’s visible, and then bump into her while I’m reaching for a Cosmo magazine. Pretending like you’re reading Cosmo always works with chicks in the grocery store.
There we go. Now all I have to do is—-wait, she got out of line. Where’s she going? She forgot to get something! Shit. Shit. What do I do? I’ll have to improvise. She’s taking a really long time. Everyone in line behind me is getting irritated. I guess I’m gonna have to cut in front of her. C’mon, think! I’ve got to turn this around somehow….I got it! I’ll go in front of her, and then I’ll help her bag her groceries when she comes through the checkout after me. Yes. That’s perfect!
I’ll have to stall for a few seconds until her groceries start getting down to this end of the conveyer belt. Otherwise I’m gonna look like a creepy dude who goes to the grocery store, stalks women, and pulls a bunch of lame-ass tricks to try to get in their pants. I’m totally not that dude. I’ll just pretend like I’m putting something in my wallet for a really long time. Okay, her groceries are coming down. These carrots will be a great conversation starter. I’ll just say something like, "hey, have you ever stuck one of these–", oh wait a minute. I might not have to worry about starting the conversation. It looks like she’s about to start it for us!
……Shit. What am I gonna do with all of these f*cking pickles?!