Grocery Store Girl (part 1)
A grocery store isn't a tradional pick-up spot, but a guy needs to take whatever opportunities that present themselves. I hope you enjoy this work of fiction.
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My name is Bill and I am a pretty typical guy. I'm a young electrical engineer at a major aerospace firm in St. Louis. I'm typical except that my experience with women was a bit, shall we say, diverse – but more on this later.
While I'm an electrical engineer, I think there is a frustrated chemist inside me. As a boy, I asked for a chemistry set, but my father refused, fearing I would blow up the house. He was probably right, because my friends and I did make explosives anyway, but didn't blow anything up.
Today my experimentation is confined to the kitchen. Not nearly as dangerous, but I have made some very respectable messes! My mother taught me to cook, warning me that if I wanted to eat well I might have to do the cooking myself, because more and more girls were not even learning the basics of cooking.
I knew that I was pretty good at cooking and was planning a nice dinner for Friday night, and wished I had someone to share it with. Over the years I had many dates, but nothing seemed to last. It seemed that every woman he met was only interested in a meal ticket. Within six months they always seemed to get around to talking of marriage, and things went downhill from there. I just wanted a nice relationship, not a woman who wanted to own me.
On Monday evening I went to a store to pick up a few grocery items. In the produce section I noticed some fresh artichokes. I had tried to prepare them in the past, guided by instructions from the internet, but they never seemed to work out well.
"Finding everything you need?" asked a middle aged woman.
"Well, can you tell me how to prepare these artichokes?" I asked.
"That's beyond me, but Sandi can probably help you – she knows how to cook everything!" she replied.
She called Sandi over and I was taken by her beauty. She was just wearing a red shirt like all the other employees and jeans – not very sexy, but she took my breath away.
"Hello Sandi, I'm Bill," I said.
"Nice to meet you, Bill," she replied, "how can I help you?"
"I've tried to prepare artichokes before," I replied, "but they didn't turn out."
"Artichokes are a little tricky," Sandi said, "but you just need to know how."
"That's where you come in," I responded.
Sandi smiled and began to explain. It sounded kind of complicated, but an idea struck me.
"I'm not sure I can get that right, but I think I know exactly how to make it work," I said.
"Oh?" asked Sandi.
"Why don't you join me for dinner on Friday night, and show me how to do this?" I replied.
"I don't go out with customers," Sandi confessed.
"Is that a store policy?" I asked.
"No, it's my policy," Sandi replied
"Sandi, I hope you will reconsider that," I responded, "do you mean that if you went out with me that I couldn't shop here any more? – that just doesn't sound reasonable."
Sandi was getting nervous, so I backed off. "Please think about it," I asked, "I'll come back in a few days. Thank you for your help," I said.
Sandi smiled and wished me well. As she walked away I noticed how sexy her nicely rounded hips looked. They rocked back and forth as she walked and I found myself "undressing her with my eyes."
I liked breasts as much as most guys, but I REALLY loved a nice round ass! I just hoped that I would be successful with Sandi. I finished my shopping and departed.
The next two days I couldn't get Sandi out of my mind. After work on Wednesday I want back to the store to finish my grocery shopping, hoping to find Sandi.
I went to the produce department and asked for Sandi. As she approached she smiled broadly and I was momentarily speechless. "Looking for more cooking advice?" she asked.
"I'm looking for an acceptance – will you join me for dinner?" I replied.
"What are you planning to have?" she asked.
That sounded promising – a lot better than "no".
"I was planning on Lasagna made with Italian sausage," I replied.
"That's the best way!" Sandi responded.
"Then you will join me for dinner?" I asked.
"Well ..." Sandi hesitated.
"You have to eat anyway," I continued, "why not do it with me?"
"Ok," she said, "but you need to be ready to make the artichokes – do you have a steamer pot?"
"Yes," I said, "but I need to get the artichokes."
We walked to the pick out the artichokes and she told me to pick one up and hold it with both hands, sort of like holding a volleyball and roll it between my hands while listening.
I did so and was surprised. "It squeaks!" I declared.
"That's good," Sandi said, "that means it is fresh."
"What if it doesn't squeak?" I asked.
"Then put it back and pick one that does!" she replied.
We laughed as I chose two squeakers.
"If you don't have lemon juice, make sure you pick up a lemon." She advised.
I gave her my address and asked her to be there by 6pm on Friday. I finished my shopping and went home. I was really excited to have a dinner date with Sandi – I really hoped that she would be different from the other women I had known. My track record wasn't very good, but I remained optimistic.
–––––––––––––––––––– To be continued ...
Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests. –Bill (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)
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