As a guy (and I’m sure most guys, whether gay, straight, or asexual would agree), there’s only so much shopping I can take in one day – especially if I’m not the one doing the shopping! I have a number of close girl-friends and have willingly and unwillingly (hey, shit happens) been along for many a shopping spree. Whenever we dive into a clothing store in which I have absolutely no interest (or that doesn’t sell guys’ stuff), I’m lucky if the employees have something good on the overhead radio. (I’ve actually discovered a lot of great artists that way; while bored or following around my walking, talking, wardrobe-famished friend, I’ll tune-out and tune-in to the jams the store has playing. I’ve never been shy about going up front and politely asking, “What’s this music?”)

Once upon a time not too long ago, I found myself in a women’s clothing store in a scenario similar to the one above. Patiently waiting (or so she thought) for a friend to decide between outfits, I planted myself on a comfy, cushiony seat just outside of the fitting area. Sadly, there wasn’t any music playing. I sat drowning in my own judgments. I remember being hungry, so I was probably dreaming up something delicious and wishing I was someplace else eating said fantasy food. Anyhow, as my mind started to wander, I became aware of two girls yapping back and forth in side-by-side fitting rooms.

I heard one spout, “I’d suspected that they had been doing it in the apartment, ya know, when I’m not around; but last night, I caught ‘em.”
The other girl gasped in disbelief, “No!”
“Oh, oh yeah.”
“In the apartment?”

I closed my eyes and continued to listen. What else was I going to do?

“Yeah. I opened the door to find them – to see them doing it, right there, right there in the living room. Yeah, she was with him on the couch – and it’s not like she could B.S. her way through it, she had the thing up to her mouth!”
“No!”
“Yes! It was so gross.”

Gross?

She continued, “And, I mean, I’d seen one before, ya know, like in a picture, but never in person or anything—”

Hold up. Never seen one before!?

“Yeah, of course not—”
“So of course I didn’t realize how big they actually are, or I guess, how big they can get.”

You’ve got to be kidding me? How old are these girls? They’ve got be eighteen at least. What kind of crap is this?

“How big was it?”
“I dunno. Big. And as soon as she saw me she slammed it down on the coffee table – I about had a fit.”
“Oh, uh-uh. The coffee table?”
“Yes! And Jen, not only was it big, it was purple.”

Purple!? What the hell? Had her roommate been cutting off his circulation? Why the hell was it purple?

“Yeah, it was like lavender with glitter or some kinda shiny stuff.”

Glitter!? What kind of decorative statement was this guy trying to make?

“What’d you do?” The inquisitive one probed.
“What do you think I did? I told him to put the thing away, and that if I ever caught them doing it again in the apartment I’d call the cops!”
“Yeah. Good. So would I.”

Call the cops? Oh, I could just imagine: “Um, yes, officer, my roommate and her boyfriend were copulating in the living room of my apartment, yeah, um, without my permission.”

She sustained, “Oh my God, and the smell. Jen, the smell!”
“I’ve heard that stuff reeks.”
“Worse than I had ever imagined! God, why’d my roommate have to turn out to be a pothead?”

Whoa. The bitches were freaking out about a bong and here I’d thought they were condemning oral sex. Silly me! Silly deliriously hungry and bored me! Moments later, I was approached by my friend, “Ready to go?” You bet I was.