Adventures of Bunny

I Come Fully Stocked

How long does the “rebound” stage last? Cause it’s been a few weeks… I’m still feeling rebound-ish. Let me explain what I mean by that my beloved readers.

I’m in the grocery store. I’m minding my own business. My ensemble as I’m strolling the wine aisle are yoga capris, tank top, an oversized hoodie that says, “it’s a top knot, double shot kind of day”. I think that pretty much says it all, don’t you? My headphones are in and I’m grabbing random bottles of wine. Because I just don’t give a shit today. The week from hell has just happened. I’m trying to recover. The random bottles of wine are going to aid in my recovery.

Why is it that men approach you when you look and feel like shit? I’m literally permeating the vibe of FUCK OFF to anyone and everyone around me. I mean come, read my fucking hoodie.

I’m in the baking aisle. As I’m searching thru the prepared gluten free baked goods, and piling my wine filled cart with sugar. I’m about to turn my cart around to head towards the ice cream. But a random man with a basket is standing in my way.

Inner Monologue Moment: What is it with men and baskets at the grocery? Are they afraid of buggies? I see guys with baskets filled to the brim, holding stuff in their hands. Want to know what would solve that problem? Make a fucking grocery list! Don’t do random shopping. It’s cheaper to go all at once, HELLO! My tip to all the men shopping randomly at the grocery every day with a little a basket. You’ll thank me later.

Random guy says, “I noticed you aren’t wearing a ring, and I wanted to say hi.”

Inner Monologue Moment: Why does he assume I’m single? I could be dating. I could be going to an orgy tonight for all he knows! What’s with the assumptions? Very presumptuous of him. If I was in better frame of mind this would have been a polite pickup. And he is good looking. But fuck no.

My response, forced smile and polite thank you I’m not interested. I push my cart towards the ice cream. The ice cream is the only thing that is making me happy in this moment.

I’m choosing my ice cream when I look up… I’m greeted with random guy. Fuck my life. He walks over with his little basket and asks, “Do I have any ice cream recommendations?”

I decide to screw with him a little. Because he didn’t get my polite brush off. I tell him, it depends on what you’re feeling like tonight. I’m generally a Neapolitan fan, because I like a little bit of everything… he looks like I have just shocked and aroused him simultaneously.

But I’m still in rebound stage. I need to put a halt to this. I turn, pull the vanilla ice cream out and put it in his manly little basket. I pat his arm and say, “For first time use, I’d suggest vanilla.”

I walk towards the register, with extra bounce in my step. Thank you random little basket guy.

Saying: Ran to the wine shop today. Workout done.


7 thoughts on “I Come Fully Stocked

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