Long-time eligible Doswell bachelor Neal Houseman returned home disappointed from Big Lots this past Thursday, empty-handed and broken-hearted.
“I was very disappointed at the selections at Big Lots last week.” He reports, somewhat dejectedly. “they didn’t have that bagged cereal I like, they were sold out of that purple mouthwash with the Arabic label that I usually get, and the one time I was in the market for that decorative olive oil bottle with the herbs and peppers and stuff already in it I couldn’t find it.”
Most importantly: “Since I am currently between girlfriends, I am on the lookout for companionship as well, but there were no hot women there that I was even remotely interested in.” he says dejectedly. “And wouldn’t you know it, when I finally decide to buy Brian Bosworth’s autobiography, they’re sold out of that too! It was a totally wasted trip.”
Houseman treks to the Big Lots 2-3 times a month in search of bargains and, if he’s lucky, some amore. “There was once about a month ago this great-looking 6’3” blond amazon chick in a leather jacket. But I’ve never seen her since, despite going back on the same day each week I saw her. I’m afraid she must have been from out of town.”
Houseman reports he did indeed hook up with a charming young woman once about a year ago. “She was from north Richmond, and she was looking at the furniture. I told her the beds here worked really well, you know, strong springs and such. She smiled and walked off, kind of crocquetish like. Is that a word? Anyway I took that as a yes! But then a manager showed up a minute later and asked me to leave. I think it was a fire drill.”
Houseman mulled over the remaining love possibilities much the way he mulled over the bagged cereal selections. “The checkout girl was kind of cute, in a recovering meth-addict kind of way, but otherwise it was a day of disappointment. All the other female shoppers that day either had kids or growths.”
Houseman also had to settle not only for no companionship but for a bagged cereal he normally does not buy. “I got this stuff called ‘Choco-Puffaroonies” instead of the ‘Frosted Mini-Spooners’ I usually get. It’s not nearly as good, it’s too sweet, and the chocolate is kind of bitter.”
Bitter like his heart? “Hey, I like that, you’re right!” he exclaims. “That’s like a metaphor or something, isn’t it?”
“I was very disappointed at the selections at Big Lots last week.” He reports, somewhat dejectedly. “they didn’t have that bagged cereal I like, they were sold out of that purple mouthwash with the Arabic label that I usually get, and the one time I was in the market for that decorative olive oil bottle with the herbs and peppers and stuff already in it I couldn’t find it.”
Most importantly: “Since I am currently between girlfriends, I am on the lookout for companionship as well, but there were no hot women there that I was even remotely interested in.” he says dejectedly. “And wouldn’t you know it, when I finally decide to buy Brian Bosworth’s autobiography, they’re sold out of that too! It was a totally wasted trip.”
Houseman treks to the Big Lots 2-3 times a month in search of bargains and, if he’s lucky, some amore. “There was once about a month ago this great-looking 6’3” blond amazon chick in a leather jacket. But I’ve never seen her since, despite going back on the same day each week I saw her. I’m afraid she must have been from out of town.”
Houseman reports he did indeed hook up with a charming young woman once about a year ago. “She was from north Richmond, and she was looking at the furniture. I told her the beds here worked really well, you know, strong springs and such. She smiled and walked off, kind of crocquetish like. Is that a word? Anyway I took that as a yes! But then a manager showed up a minute later and asked me to leave. I think it was a fire drill.”
Houseman mulled over the remaining love possibilities much the way he mulled over the bagged cereal selections. “The checkout girl was kind of cute, in a recovering meth-addict kind of way, but otherwise it was a day of disappointment. All the other female shoppers that day either had kids or growths.”
Houseman also had to settle not only for no companionship but for a bagged cereal he normally does not buy. “I got this stuff called ‘Choco-Puffaroonies” instead of the ‘Frosted Mini-Spooners’ I usually get. It’s not nearly as good, it’s too sweet, and the chocolate is kind of bitter.”
Bitter like his heart? “Hey, I like that, you’re right!” he exclaims. “That’s like a metaphor or something, isn’t it?”
