Well Well Well:

Well, the other day while sipping tea and visiting with Reavis I commented on a post about taking pictures of people. See Reavis and I share in a perverse thrill that of taking pictures of people without their permission. He’s so much cleverer than I am about it. Stealth is the key, that and a small camera. I tend to carry around the equivalent of a Panavision 35-millimeter movie camera complete with a rolling dolly and miles of track. So I’m just a tad more obvious.

Well, whilst enjoying a vacation and romantic getaway in a little beach community I stopped by the local grocers to pick up a few things. Limes for cocktails, lip balm, a liter of root beer and syrup for my morning sex and breakfast in bed routine. A little time saver as I like to combine the two activities, it’s ever so scrumptious, pure protein and burns more calories.















Well, as I minced about the store and ambled around the corner with my shopping trug tucked under my arm and up to the counter women I was immediately stricken with a severe case of shoppers ADD (those darn merchandisers are so shrewd that way with checkout end caps.)

Well, by the way (I’m possessed with parenthetical side notes and refrains today).























Well, back to my ADD, first I was taken with the glossy Marilyn Monroe LIFE magazine special anniversary edition of her passing herself on which led me with breakneck to think of TJB's lovely mother who passed away on the same day (I thought of her all day). Double time to the motorized lollipop in the shape of Superman (honestly aren’t people lazy enough without having a machine to whirl a lollipop around on their tongues for them?). Expeditiously and with a hair trigger execution I zero in on the M&M’s (not today too many calories), then instantaneously my short attention turned to the pimply adolescent bag boy and as if not quick enough to rid myself of that unpleasant image, I saw HER.
























Well, her was an exquisite vision of perfection a little frosted cupcake manning the register and charming shoppers into saying, “Thank You”. Yes thank you so much for giving me back so much less money than I gave you. This girl literally stunned me.

Well, she was about 5’-10” with a sun kissed peachy complexion, naturally straight quirky teeth (so cute) gorgeous naturally blond hair (the kind people pay hundreds for) pulled into a twisty ponytail high at the back of her head (note: high ponytail = sexy, low ponytail at the nape of the neck = not so sexy). Startling large azure blue eyes (with white flecks to make’em sparkle) and for accent one simple line of black liner on the upper lid and mascara and to top things off, shiny pink lip gloss on a full ripe pouty mouth. Other than that she was completely nude except for her smock which she managed to make look good (the mark of a true model) and a name tag that read, Brittany (spelled like the place name or region).
























Well, on with my long incoherent rambly story, I paid for my purchases then I got the idea of taking her photograph. “May I take your photograph?” I asked. She squinched her face a little and sort of pursed her lips (very attractively I might add which isn’t easy to do, another sign of true modeldom) and was sort of nodding her head tacitly but not a definite NO but not a definite YES either. I casually mention that I have a friend that scouts for models. I was also thinking the bloglot of you people might spot her and pass her on to the appropriate agencies as well.























Well, bag boy looked away from her only for a nanosecond (he stares at her like a loving obedient puppy able to bag in a single bound without taking his eyes off of her) and looked at me and back at her and said, “Oh yes let him” She was still uncertain and at this point the rather plain checkout girl (with loads of sassy personality) the aisle over said, “Oh yes let him”. About this time the (jolly but decidedly dowdy) manager waltzes up and behind her like a guard dog (this girl obviously has rare super powers of persuasion to make minions do as she pleases) and I asked, “Would it be alright if I were to take her picture” and she nodded and said, “I don’t mind if she doesn’t”. Brittany was still undecided.

Well, I said, “Hey do you wanna work at the supermarket or do you wanna be on Seventeen magazine?” She didn’t reply. So I politely said, “Well, Thank You anyway” and left. The next day I returned and marched right up to her line, she smiled a little mischievous but awkward smile said hello and proceeded to check me out. The sassy girl the aisle over said, “did you bring your camera with you today?” I laughed then said rather imperiously, “Oh nooo I wouldn’t dream of taking her picture now.” Then I grabbed my bag and stalked out in huff.


















Well, I was so tempted to just come back and take her picture anyway (you know steal her soul and suck out her essence) but to do that would invade her privacy and rob her of her super powers of persuasion (of which I’m immune) and then my spiteful nature kicked in and I decided to stop stalking her and let her languish in the Publix, The Supermodel of the Supermarket World.