"Yes Grandma. Yes Grandma. Okay Grandma, I won't forget. Yes Grandma, I know you haven't had a bowel movement in five days. Okay Grandma… I have to go. I, I, I, have a turkey in the oven. Yeah! A turkey in the oven and if I don't take it out it will burn. No Grandma. Yes Grandma. I know you love turkey, Grandma. Yes Grandma, I love you too. I won't forget, Bye… Bye… Bye."
If her ass could talk I would listen. A light goes on above my crotch. I am here to worship Mary's ass. As I hang the phone up I catch a glimpse of myself in the corner of the eagle-shaped mirror hanging on my wall. I am wearing nothing more than a smile and my Batman underwear. I softly say to myself with the delivery of Dirty Harry, "Yes. Yes you are a sexy bitch aren't you? Yeah. Yeah you are." I turn away from the mirror and smack my ass. I smack my ass to remind me that someday maybe a real live woman might smack it for me. Every man has a dream. I throw on my usual shopping attire, a beaten up second hand 1982 Clash tour shirt, my tan-colored, skin-tight, faux-leather pants and a pair of red high top Chucks. Man, I look good. What women could resist this package?
After making a few sexy poses in the mirror attached to the back of my apartment door I make my way down to my newly painted love machine. My 1978 Gremlin GT was hot before, but now that she's been painted bright cherry red and the hood has been airbrushed with a picture of a naked Aztec princess, my nipples get hard every time I see her. I love running errands for my grandmother, it gives me a reason to show the world my awesome ride.
Parked in front of the local Wal-Mart I find myself staring at my chain steering wheel trying to remember what items I was supposed to pick up for my grandmother. Spam, K-Y Jelly and stool softener. Yeah, I think that was it. Maybe I'll surprise her with a nice jar of pickled prunes. Man, am I one good grandson, and I know chicks dig a man who shops for his grandmother. Maybe someday I can use this to my sexual advantage.
The store is packed like a cattle car full of bovines off to the slaughterhouse. "You sorry bastards," I whisper under my breath before I realize that I am one of those sorry bastards. No matter. I am on mission to save a woman I love from the discomfort of impaction. It takes me all of two minutes to find the items on my mental list and throw them confidently into my shopping cart. I spot an opening at the nearest teller and begin to jockey for position. I defend my space like a Spartan warrior. "Back off, lady!" I grunt at a woman trying to take my place in line when I realize that the woman is Mary, the overly busty and oh so sexy blonde secretary from work.
Our eyes meet and for a split second Mary gives me a smile. Before I can return the gesture she looks down into my shopping cart. Time stands still for a moment, everything moves in slow motion. I even think I hear a fly fart. After staring into my cart for what felt like hours, Mary glances up at me with pure disgust on her face. A look I know too well. Mary quickly gives up the fight for my spot and races away. "No!" I call after her. "It's not mine. I'm shopping for my grandmother!"
She does not acknowledge my cry. I remind myself that women love a man with confidence. I call after Mary while she races away, "Yeah baby, that's how I roll. Dirty and well lubed." I receive no response. I am momentarily overwhelmed with shame but it melts away as I watch Mary's spectacular ass sway from side to side as she races away from me. It amazes me how one ass could have such a profound and mesmerizing effect. If her ass could talk I would listen; it would be my messiah. A light goes on above my crotch. I am here to worship Mary's ass. "Praise Mary's ass" I whisper under my breath as I cup my hands and begin to pray.
Before I can fully explore my new form of perverted faith I am struck on the shoulder by something that may or may not be human. All of my senses are assaulted at once and I am left with only one option: ask this magnificent creature what he or she is. Before me stands something that could only have escaped from a travelling circus, so I proceed with caution. I open my mouth to speak but all that comes out is the gagging questions "What the fuck are you and why did you touch me?" The response I receive is confusing and delivered in a somewhat broken form of English. I think the voice may be female but I am not sure. "You're next," is all I can make out. I move quickly to avoid being touched by this creature again; it appears to be my turn to pay and escape from the zoo.
With one eye on the easily agitated pack of wild animals standing behind me in line, I quickly pile my rectal treats onto the conveyer belt. The cashier scans each product with a numb look on her face and places them in a bag. Before she tells me how much I owe she throws me a look of pure disgust. All I have the strength to say in my defense is, "Don't judge me. You work here." The cashier turns her back to me and makes a phone call. Before I can laugh at my own witty remark I am grabbed by two large monkeys who work as security guards and am abruptly escorted off of the property. I had no idea that Wal-Mart had muscle. No matter. It makes me look dangerous. Too bad no sexy ladies were there to witness it.
Before I leave the parking lot I make sure to pull up in front of the entrance and burn rubber to protest my mistreatment. Nobody notices. And even if they did, I don't think they would have cared. Fuck the man, I think as I peel off in my ultra cherry 1978 Gremlin GT listening to Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" cranked to the max. My day will come!