By Justin Grimbol(author of THE PARTY LORDS)
The parking lot in front of the Pick N Save was packed.
“It’s busy,” Bella said as she pulled into a parking space. “I’m surprised it’s so busy.”
“You say that every time we go shopping,” I said.
We got out and wobbled into the store.
There was so much food. But no smell.
I walked alongside my wife, in a trance.
There was a woman with long braids and tight zebra striped leggings and a huge butt. She was in the dairy section and she made me feel magical, like if I unzipped my pants a mighty eagle would fly out and bury its talons in her ass cheeks.
Bella caught me staring.
“That’s so much butt,” she said.
“I know. All I want is to sniff it, just once. Just once.”
“What if it smells bad?” she asked.
“I just want to snuggle with it,” I said.
Bella rolled her eyes.
I got bored of shopping and snuck off to the magazine rack.
There were a couple of rap magazines and the rap magazines had pictures of big butted ladies and I liked to look at those pictures and imagine what the butts felt like and smelled like, and this made my heart go pitter patter and it made my soul glow in the dark and it made ghosts of butts past come down from the heavens and party in my wiener, like my wiener was just a tower people liked to party in.
There were also romance novels. I thought about buying one of these romance novels. And reading it.
But then I decided that would be boring and horrible so I didn’t do that.
I started thinking about butts again. I thought about all the butts of the world and how terrifying they must smell. I wanted to smell them all. I wanted to take a weekend off from all my typing and reading and family stuff and I want to just smell butts.
Bella made a big veggie pie that night.
It tasted good. But not as good as it usually tasted.
Usually we got our veggies from a farm stand outside of town.
It was run by this old couple. They would sit there covered in flies, looking sleepy and content.
We would order our veggies.
They would take their time adding up our total.
The old lady wanted to make sure that we were on her mailing list. She wanted to send us a Christmas card.
We must have given that old biddy our address a dozen times. But we didn’t get a card in the mail.
Maybe they’re dead.