I Love Shopping

I Love Shopping

by Squeezable (amauiguy@gmail.com)

I hate shopping. It boggles my mind that people actually claim to enjoy the pushing and shoving as they wander around for hours browsing over stuff they'll never buy. What's the point? I'm a little cranky as I drive slowly through the packed Costco parking lot, searching right and left in frustration for an empty parking spot. Don't these people have anywhere else to be? I finally find an empty space at the far corner of the parking lot, hidden between a big dusty white van and the tall blank cinderblock wall of the shopping center next door. Carefully I ease my little Toyota into the cramped space. At least the van driver was considerate enough to pull in between the lines, leaving me a normal size spot to park in.

But on Maui, where I live, going shopping does have one redeeming value which I'm pleasantly reminded of as I walk toward the front of the store and spy a couple of good looking, well built, tanned "surfer dudes" in tight t-shirts and long board shorts coming through the exit. I sigh to myself in appreciation. Perhaps this shopping trip won't be a total waste of time.

More likely than not I'll spot some hunky guy, and I'll be able to scope him out innocently while shopping. My taste in men is pretty broad, but I really get turned on by beefy, taller guys, especially the wrestler-football player type. My infrequent trips to Costco have never failed to provide some eye candy, and I'm hoping today's won't either.

I grab a cart, show my card to the plump dark-haired lady at the entrance, pull out my shopping list, and dive into the organized chaos that is the flow of traffic. I always make a list--that way I'll be sure not to forget anything and also not pick up anything extra that I don't really need.

Proceeding from aisle to aisle I check off items from my list as I add them to my cart. I catch glimpses of a few nice looking guys here and there, but no one captures my full attention. Besides, as crowded as it is, I must continually watch where I'm going so I don't run over the little old Asian lady in front of me.

As I reach the middle of another aisle, the lady in front of me spots what must be a long lost friend coming the other way. The two ancient biddies decide to stop their carts side by side for a chat completely oblivious to the impediment they're causing for other shoppers around them. There is only a very narrow space to get through, and as I look beyond them, I notice for the first time a very tall broad-shouldered man who, like me, is now stuck.

I stare in total awe and amazement at his immense form as he towers over the two ladies. He's got to be at least a foot taller than me, since my eyes are level with the huge muscular pecs straining against his tight white tank top with the number 808 on it. My hungry eyes travel up from his firm waist, over his wide pecs, past the curly brown hair spilling out over the top of his shirt, along his bulging shoulders and strong thick neck, to his handsome ruggedly scruffy face. I guess him to be in his 40s and clearly he's spent a lot of that time in the gym.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head a little looking at the chatty women in front of him. Then with a look of annoyance, he starts to maneuver around the traffic jam. As he does, he looks over at me and catches me staring open-mouthed at him. He turns his head and glances over his big left shoulder to confirm for himself that he's the object of my attention, then looks back at me with narrowed eyes and a scowl on his face. Immediately I drop my gaze and pretend I'm deeply interested in a gallon jug of low sodium soy sauce that happens to be on the shelf next to me, but I'm practically shaking with fear at having been caught gaping at him. I can feel myself blushing. It's clear from his size that he could easily beat me to a pulp. The two ladies, locked in animated conversation, show no awareness of the tension between us as he pushes his cart through the small space they've left.

Time seems to slow as he looms closer and closer to me.

I can feel his eyes glaring down at me as he approaches until he's standing right beside me. In a deep rumbling voice he says "Pardon me," and very slowly reaches his huge right hand past my face to grab one of the soy sauce jugs. As he leans hulking over me, I catch a whiff of his clean musky manscent, and inhale deeply. I glance toward him and find myself facing into the deep furry space where his huge outstretched right arm joins his massive chest. Quickly, I turn back to the soy sauce in time to see his enormous hand closing around the plastic jug, his long fingers wrapping around as if it were the size of a coffee cup for a normal person.

He is enjoying this, I can tell, by the way he is moving so deliberately. This bully knows he is intimidating me with his bulk, but he probably doesn't realize that he's exciting me, too. As he draws his hand and the jug back in front of my face, he leans over and I feel his warm breath against my ear.

He whispers menacingly, "Imagine that this jug is your head."

I watch, mesmerized, as he pushes the jug into his armpit. Slowly he brings his massive arm down around the jug, holding it firmly against the side of his chest as if in a headlock. He glowers down at me as he squeezes the jug. I can see the tension as he flexes his powerful bicep. Then he pulls the jug from its warm sweaty enclosure, leans over in front of me again, and places it back on the shelf.

"I'd like that," I say softly as he leans over me.

A startled look crosses his face, followed immediately by a frown. It's clear he wasn't expecting that kind of response.

"Hmph," he snorts at me as he pushes his cart away down the aisle.

I turn and watch his huge form stride away. He's wearing shorts, I notice for the first time. I marvel at the power hidden in his flexing butt, and furry legs and calves.

"I said, excuse me please, Sir!"

Suddenly I come to my senses. One of the little old ladies is trying to push past me.

"Sorry," is all I can manage in response, as I move my cart aside and continue down the aisle.

What have I done, I wonder to myself? But then, remembering the thrill, I stop my cart, hurry back up the aisle and grab the now sweaty, manhandled jug of soy sauce. I lift the damp jug to my nose and smell his scent on it, so I place it carefully into my shopping cart.

Reality sets in. What if the bully doesn't like the idea of someone not cowering before of him? Obviously that was what he expected me to do. Getting beaten up is definitely not on my shopping list, so I hurry to gather the final items and rush to the checkout line. I peer carefully around to see where Mr. 808 has gone. Between the shelves, several aisles away, I catch a glimpse of one of his huge arms. I nearly sigh aloud with relief as I enter one of the checkout lines.

I unload my cart and wait fidgeting impatiently while the couple in front of me is getting rung up. The white-haired lady fumbles through her purse. "Ah, here it is," she says finally pulling out her checkbook. Her husband looks at me apologetically and shrugs, as if he's been through this a hundred times before. The checkout guy glances over at me and gives me a little smile. Nervously, I peer around at the shopping area behind me and feel a sense of relief that the huge man is nowhere in sight. Finally the people in front of me wheel their cart away, and I can pay and leave.

"Sir, would you like me to get a different one?" the clerk asks holding up the soy sauce jug, which I now see has the label partially askew. "This one looks like it's been out in the rain," he says with a puzzled look on his face.

"No, that one will be fine, thanks," I reply quickly as another blush creeps up my face.

A debit card is much faster than writing a check, so it takes just a minute before I'm on my way hurrying toward the exit. As the checker at the door compares my receipt to the items in my cart, I venture a careful look back toward the checkout area.

With a shock, I realize the large man is at a cashier already! I must have missed seeing him get into line while I was waiting for the people in front of me, but sure enough, I see 808 stretched wide on the back of his white tank top. Then, as if he can feel me watching, he turns abruptly and stares directly into my eyes with a scowl on his face.

With a sense of near panic, I turn back just as the checker finishes with my cart and I practically run out the door and across the parking lot to my car. The parking lot is still crowded, but has thinned out a bit. My car is somewhat hidden behind the white van parked next to it, but when I finally see it, I feel a huge sense of relief.

I quickly open my trunk and load in my groceries. Last but certainly not least, I lift the jug from the cart. As I close my eyes remembering those massive hands, I once again bring the jug to my nose sniffing his lingering aroma.

"Did you mean what you said?" growls the deep threatening voice that almost stops my heart.

It's him! I whirl around dropping the jug into my trunk. He's standing not more than ten feet away holding a large box of groceries at the back of the van. Of course, I didn't hear him coming. A man like him wouldn't really need to use a noisy cart. He holds keys in one hand and the box in the other. As I watch worried at what he might do, he reaches over and unlocks the back door of the van. Keeping his eyes on me, he opens the door, places the box inside, and shuts it again. Then he stands up to his full height and takes a deep breath. His chest expands hugely and I see his hard nipples pressing against the fabric of his shirt.

He takes a step toward me.

"I asked you a question little man," he roars.

I turn my gaze from his magnificent pecs up to his eyes. At that moment, I realize that whatever I say is probably going to be the wrong thing, so I decide to be honest.

"Y-yes, I meant it," I stammer timidly.

He takes another step toward me.

I glance around uneasily, realizing that with his van parked where it is, and the building wall on the other side of me, there will be no witnesses when he decides to take me apart. I suppose this is how a rabbit must feel when cornered, but at least he hasn't actually started trying to kill me yet.

With his next step he's up against my now empty cart. A casual fling of his hand rolls the cart away from us.

He looks down into my trunk and sees the sweaty soy sauce jug. I jump as he reaches over and slams my trunk shut.

I take a small step back, then another, as he presses forward. Suddenly I feel the wall at my back, and know there is nowhere to run.

"Just... like... the... jug...," he rumbles.

Suddenly his gigantic left hand reaches out and wraps around the back of my head. The crushing pressure of his strong thick fingers prevents me from turning my head in the slightest. He starts pulling me slowly toward him. I frantically grab at his fingers to pry them away, but my attempts are futile. In horror and amazement, I realize I'm getting my wish as my face approaches his hairy right armpit. Just as he starts to close his arm, I take a deep breath. With his musky smell in my nostrils and surrounded by walls of muscle, darkness fills my vision and my ears hear only silence.

He squeezes his arm against my head and bright stars shoot before my eyes. I struggle and pull unsuccessfully against his arm, then the pressure eases a little for half a minute.

He squeezes again, harder, and I hear the thundering of my own blood pounding in my ears. My hands push wildly against his solid abs and chest, but to no avail. Again, after several seconds, the pressure eases a bit.

He squeezes a third time, and it feels like my head getting squashed like a grape. Nearly hysterical, I stretch my arms around his titanic frame in a bearhug and squeeze as hard as I can. He releases the pressure around my head a little bit, but at the same time takes a deep breath. As his chest and belly expand, my feeble bearhug breaks easily. Then the pressure around my head is gone, and I can see and hear and breathe again.

I stagger back a step. His huge hands engulf my shoulders as he holds me a bit away from him and he studies the dazed expression on my face.

"You're grinning," he growls with disgust.

Speechless, I look up into his eyes and nod in agreement, and to my surprise, notice that he is grinning, too.

His powerful hands guide me toward my driver's side of my car.

"Go!" he mutters, then turns away. He gets into his van without a look back and drives away.

Completely dumbfounded by what just happened, I stand leaning against my car and watch until his van disappears in the distance.

So one thing I learned today is that I love shopping, and even though I will still take a list, I will always hope that I'll find something that I wasn't expecting.