Busted: cashier caught me recording her top heaviness
punchr
Published
05/06/2015
So I walked into Walmart. I needed Half & Half, blueberries, oranges, along with some other stuff.
It was a hot May night. The Hublot sticker on my grandma's station wagon was deteriorating under the Moreno Valley sun. I needed a cold Pepsi.
As I approached the checkout line something immediately aroused my attention.
Whoa. It was the cashier. Her shape captured my imagination like no other. Before I pushed my shopping cart to her checkout line, I pulled out my phone.
"What is going over me?!" I thought. I usually play it safe and avoid entrapping myself in risky business. This time was different. I tap the camera icon. Record.
What the hell am I doing. Please. No. Please. I can't keep it together no matter how hard I try. An aura of anxiety radiates off me. I cannot control it.
"You need to fucking relax, cocksucker. Don't start that shit, man."
I nervously toss my shit on the conveyor belt with my right hand. My left hand is being used to record.
She looks at me.
Ah fuck. I wasn't ready for that.
She can feel my anxiety. My awkwardness, my anxiousness, the tension are solarlike -- one quick look and she must look away to avoid pain. She finds relief in looking down.
She scans my laxatives. I have a bad digestive system. She scans my allergy tablets. I'm allergic to my grandma's cat.
She scans. And scans.
Left, right. Swipe.
Jiggle, jiggle.
Beep.
...
Beep.
Auburn hair. Do I dare?
"Would, would you like to go grab some coffee sometime? I know this really good place that's off the beaten path."
Beep.
...
...
Beep.
SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! She saw! She fucking saw! Fuck. She knows.
She knows.
...
...
...
I love you, Meagan.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jLts_1Yl-g
It was a hot May night. The Hublot sticker on my grandma's station wagon was deteriorating under the Moreno Valley sun. I needed a cold Pepsi.
As I approached the checkout line something immediately aroused my attention.
Whoa. It was the cashier. Her shape captured my imagination like no other. Before I pushed my shopping cart to her checkout line, I pulled out my phone.
"What is going over me?!" I thought. I usually play it safe and avoid entrapping myself in risky business. This time was different. I tap the camera icon. Record.
What the hell am I doing. Please. No. Please. I can't keep it together no matter how hard I try. An aura of anxiety radiates off me. I cannot control it.
"You need to fucking relax, cocksucker. Don't start that shit, man."
I nervously toss my shit on the conveyor belt with my right hand. My left hand is being used to record.
She looks at me.
Ah fuck. I wasn't ready for that.
She can feel my anxiety. My awkwardness, my anxiousness, the tension are solarlike -- one quick look and she must look away to avoid pain. She finds relief in looking down.
She scans my laxatives. I have a bad digestive system. She scans my allergy tablets. I'm allergic to my grandma's cat.
She scans. And scans.
Left, right. Swipe.
Jiggle, jiggle.
Beep.
...
Beep.
Auburn hair. Do I dare?
"Would, would you like to go grab some coffee sometime? I know this really good place that's off the beaten path."
Beep.
...
...
Beep.
SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! She saw! She fucking saw! Fuck. She knows.
She knows.
...
...
...
I love you, Meagan.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jLts_1Yl-g
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