Re: I Dream of Patrik (w/ pics)
OP's Last Blog Story
bookstore beat
My day began when I woke up (O RLY?), rolled out of bed, and ate a full half pound of pepperoni for breakfast. Washed down with a glass of milk, of course. Not quite standard, but not storyworthy by any means. I then went to my first couple classes, slept through them, and otherwise went about my day. Little did I realize a vile, uncontrollable beast was fermenting inside me.
Fast forward to midday, when I'm browsing my local bookstore. A cute employee, 21ish, 7/10, walks up to me and asks if I need any help. I say no, and move out of her way, but she follows me down the aisles inventorying as she goes. Now as many of you know, I have a girlfriend, but I'm not immune to flirting for a quick self-esteem boost. Unfortunately, by this time I was well aware of the trouble brewing, so I had to proceed with caution.
I stop meandering and crouch down to look at a book on the lower shelf. She stops too, and I look up to catch her smile.
"Whatcha looking for?" she asks. A thousand thoughts run through my mind at once.
What the hell AM I looking for?
Hey, she has a nice smile.
Wait a second, is my small intestine trying to tell me something?
How the hell does she get her teeth that white?
I'm looking for a comedy book.
Christ, what the hell is wrong with my stomach?
Oh no...
...[censored]...
...it's coming.
Whatever I do, I can't stand up right now.
"Books." Smooooth one, pennpal. "Well, I mean, funny books. Ehrmm..."
I have no idea what I'm saying. Something about an author maybe, or the weather, or poker, or socks. I don't even care, I'm just clenching my asscheeks together as well as I can and praying she loses interest. She smiles again. [censored].
"Let me help you up." I grab her hand, and against all my best instincts, slowly rise. "I don't normally talk to customers like this... My name's ________."
I dont remember what her name was, nor do I ever want to remember. Because at that exact moment, it happened.
To call it a fart would be like calling Hiroshima a firecracker. I actually felt this incredible heat eminating from my ass - it was like someone had just taken a hotpocket straight from the microwave and shoved it right up there. For all I know that's what it looked like, too; I sure as hell wasn't about to check.
Her face was priceless. Wide eyed shock followed by an incredibly disguested gasp- then, surprisingly enough, a small smile? Could I salvage the situation? Unfortunately, that's when the smell hit us.
We both reeled, eyes watering, faces scrunched. I think she even started to gag. Now I've smelled a lot of things in my life. Week-dead birds, burning flesh, getting hugged by homeless people--Yet I have never smelled something this horrible. I would rather be skull-[censored]ed with a barbed wire baseball bat than ever smell it again, and I'm sure she had similar thoughts. She turned and walked - no, ran - in the opposite direction, while I sat and basked in all my rank-ass glory.
"Well," I thought, "at least I still have a girlfriend." Only then did I look down at the book I had absentmindedly picked up to browse.
I ended up buying it - if I'm going to keep the girl I've got, I need all the help I can get.
|