I am a super hero.
Have you ever had your personal space invaded? Has a complete stranger ever been so dumb as to not understand the whole concept of personal space and it just makes your skin crawl? I’m not talking just about a close talker or someone who stands too close to you as in shoulder to shoulder.
It’s much worse than that.
If she had been good looking and/or good smelling, it would have been different. As it were, we were in Price Chopper, so you know the clientele wasn’t the upper crust of society.
I had the dubious honor of helping my friend Tech Joe pick up a giant T.V. yesterday. On the way back, potatoes was one of the things his wife needed him to bring home. As an aside, she should really start to make lists, so one phone call would do instead of the 103 he received from her in that 3 hour period.
Sometimes I’m glad I’m not married. Moving on.
We were waiting in the checkout line. The person ahead of Tech Joe was having trouble with his debit card so the line wasn’t moving. The lady behind me, if you can call it a lady – IT is the more appropriate word – decides to step RIGHT in front of me to start loading her stuff on the conveyor.
That’s right. We were practically doing the standing spoon right there at the checkout line. My crotch was right at her fat, saggy ass. And she didn’t care.
I coughed. Nothing.
I ahemed. Nothing.
I shuffled a bit. Nothing.
I got a wiff of her unwashed fold cheese filled body. I retched a little. Still nothing.
So I did the only thing that came to my mind. I opened my mouth and screamed at the top of my lungs:
PELVIC! THRUST!
And hip checked her right over the casheir.
And that’s how I learned that I am a super hero. I call myself.
PELVIC THRUST MAN!
I’m still working on a costume.
UPDATE:
I have found some enemies that I just cannot defeat. SNL’s the Ambiguously Gay Duo.
There are some things that a man just can’t do.
‘Nuff said.
