Tuesday, February 21, 2012

The One Where They Meet...

He stood there with the refrigerator door open, staring at what little options were in front of him.  Besides a bottle of mayonnaise, all there was was Gatorade and leftover Chinese food from the other night.

Typical bachelor, he thought.

Sighing, James reached for the Chinese food.  The top popped open and the worst foul smell filled the kitchen, and he quickly threw it in the trashcan at the end of the island.

Glancing at the clock, he grabbed his wallet and turned towards the front door.  James hadn’t taken two steps when he turned back on his heel and grabbed the trash bag, dropping it down the trash chute by the elevator before he headed out onto the Pittsburgh streets.


The doors opened automatically as James walked into the grocery store just a couple blocks from his apartment building.

It was late and near closing time, the isles abandoned and left disordered by the swarm of customers during the day.  The music played through the speakers clearly, a relaxing break from the usual sounds of hectic shoppers, rolling carts and beeping registers.

James grabbed a basket and walked to the far right of the store where he started wandering up and down each isle.

He went through his mental checklist, making sure he didn’t forget anything.
Cereal, check.  Pasta, check.  Milk, check.  Chicken and beer.  Lots of beer.

James rounded the corner of the isle to grab the last of the things he needed, coming to a halt at the sight before him

“I swear, I stared, my niece my witness.  The brother had it goin’ on with somethin’ kinda… uh.  Wicked, wicked oooh had to kick it.  I’m not shy so I asked for the digits…”

Like it was karaoke night, the girl in front of him was rapping to the music coming from the speakers above, swaying from side to side like she were Salt N’ Pepa.  She hadn’t noticed him, James looked around to see if anyone else was as witness to this but he was alone.

Breaking into the chorus, he took the moment to give her a once over.

She was small, he had to have had almost a foot on her.  Her wavy, dirty blonde hair fell midway down the back of her short leather jacket.  His eyes went further down, admiring the way her dark gray skinny jeans hugged her curvy legs before disappearing into a pair of black boots.  Her hips swayed from side to side and her shoulders shook as she danced.  

Standing in front of the chicken selection, she would pick up a package and get distracted by the song once more before putting it back and doing it again like a dance.

“You’re packed and you’re stacked especially in the back.  Brother, wanna thank your mother for a butt like that,”

“Well I’ll be sure to thank her for you,” James finally spoke up, trying not to chuckle.

The petite blonde whipped around at the sound of his voice, dropping the chicken in her hand.  Her eyes went wide in embarrassment when she saw that she had an audience.

Her cheeks turned ten shades of red, and James didn’t bother holding back the smile that came to his lips.


She wanted to disappear, right there.  Let the floor open below and swallow me!  She begged.

It was bad enough that she was caught rapping to Salt N’ Pepa in a grocery store, but did he have to be so good looking?!

Leaning against the stack of soda boxes at the end of a nearby isle, stood one handsome man.  The navy blue V-neck sweater was rolled up to his elbows and was taut across his wide shoulders.  He wore a watch on the wrist of the hand he casually had stuffed in his front pocket.

There’s just something ridiculously sexy about a guy who wears a watch.

A pair of light blue jeans hugged his thick legs like wrapping paper, and the only thing more distracting than those jeans was his smile.  She was pretty confident that with that smile, he could get away with murder.

Gladly, she thought.

He took a step towards her, “That was a pretty good performance,” he winked.

Oh shit.

She mentally shook herself back into reality as quick as she could.  “Heh, I’ll be here all week,” she laughed nervously.  She picked up the chicken off the floor and turned her back on the man staring at her, the selection of chicken had become quite interesting.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him walk up next to her, just as intrigued in the chicken as she.

“'Push It' was always my favorite song of theirs,” he said nonchalantly.  “Oh, baby, baby.  Baby, baby,” he sang, not without thrusting his hips slightly.

She looked up at him, and was met with just a second of seriousness before a smile cracked at the corner of his lips.

The two broke out in fits laughter, the sound filling the deserted grocery store.

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