Reading Time: 3 minutesRob wandered all through the shopping centre car park, finishing the last fag for a time. This centre, like all other places, had a strict no smoking policy. Ridiculously you couldn’t even smoke in the outdoor car park. You get soaked as they had no shelter, you could get run over as the wangers sped about the lane ways and you could get lost if you didn’t pay any attention. Gb-7663 – green, how the hell can anyone remember a floor, row and space identified like that? Maybe Rob would have better luck today in his search for some well-fitting smalls.
His underwear collection was now providing more holes than required. Embarrassing smalls annoyed Ron. His patient lover was also annoyed, but that was because he always answered the door to her without them. Sometimes he was just plain old buck naked and others, hardly hiding his pleasure at her arrival.
Rob thought about sex often
Wrote about it, had dreams about it and remembered it a lot. The remembering was a private matter but the dreams were often highlighting very public outbursts of passion. Actions he wished for and created in his slumber. He wore smalls to bed and his lover thought that might be the reason for his inability to keep only three holes in the luxurious undergarments for long.
One for each leg and one for the body. He didn’t like that fourth hole, that being the part apart part. He didn’t buy smalls with those parts. Too messy and it always caused trouble with his Johnson. Rob found himself at the discount hyper-store with acres and acres of cheap stuff. He needed smalls and approached the plump old dear who was at the front door proudly looking into peoples bags.
“Excuse me” he announced in a very loud voice while being too close to the old dear’s face.
“Where do you keep your smalls?”
Quick as a flash
Betty recoiled and slapped Rob right across the face. She yelled for security as she pinned Rob down in a tremendously effective restraining hold. So much so that Rob started to think of other things. This obvious arousal would only exacerbate the situation and force the store security to take over sooner than he had hoped. Betty was screaming, Rob was straining and the security, an old age pensioner in his sixties called Michael, was struggling to keep things under control. So was Rob. By this stage, Betty had calmed down and returned to peering into strangers bags. Rob and his smalls search had caused such a scene.
Betty liked her job but hated the public most days. Some of the things she’d see hiding in hand, shopping and glad bags was very disturbing. That morning an elderly homeless woman had brought a dead rat shopping with her. The reason she gave when Michael was called that she had a rat problem and wanted to try out the size of the traps sold at this hyper-store. It turned out that the traps were far too small, so the smelly rat catcher took her business elsewhere. She was asked to relinquish the rat and Michael popped it into the large smelly waste bin in the loading dock.
Sadly for the hyper-store
The innocent rat disposal was spotted by an already disgruntled customer who proceeded to contact the local Council. Three Health Inspectors arrived late that afternoon and conducted a full inspection of the general goods, deli and waste areas. As per normal when calls were received at Council, the details were so exaggerated that the officers thought that 48 rats had been tossed into the bin. Three officers were all they could offer, they would have sent all eight but half the team were on leave.
Of course, Rob missed the aftermath of his misunderstood request and the intense inspections. He now had problems of his own. He was being interviewed by the Police who were keen to understand the reason for his very inappropriate question.
“I was looking for smalls” claimed Rob … “I thought she worked there and would know where they displayed them. It wasn’t meant to be suggesting anything.”
“Did you not think that she would take offence to you asking where she kept her smalls?”
“Well no .. its a perfectly innocent and sensible question. I mean if I’d been looking for Golfing equipment I could well have asked her where she kept her balls.”
“Oh shit – I see” .. realised Rob
“I’m very sorry.”
The police let Rob go, the store heard no more about it. No-one found any rats and Betty kept on looking into other people’s bags. Rob didn’t get to buy any smalls until the following week and he wasn’t pleased. He struggled to get through and it was an uncomfortable week indeed. The supply was wearing thin and the proud moment when being restrained was never mentioned.
An increasingly grumpy old fart posting rants, observations and trying to write somewhat twisted short stories for adults. All rights reserved unless otherwise credited © Alan Crawford - 2024
