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By splatipus Date: 2002 Oct 10 Comment on this Work [[2002.10.10.15.47.7951]] |
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My trolley was barely laden. Lamb chops for hubby's dinner, porridge for our breakfast, smoked ham and bananas for our packed lunches, and cat litter- for the cat. I skidded down the aisles towards the check outs. Nearly running down old ladies and irritably skimming past dawdling office girls as I attempted to beat the 5 o'clock shopping rush to the tills. That lad over there - he's free - QUICK! I zoomed in front of an overloaded trolley heading in the same direction. I unloaded my goods and stood triumphantly before the check out lad. 'Would you like some help with your packing?' I looked at him properly, for the first time, and right into his baby blues.......oh.....my.....god. I was hit by a massive jolt of electricity. My heart stopped, my eyes popped out of my head and I'm not quite sure where my knees went. He must have been about 18. Either a student from the Uni. or a 6th former from the Grammar School. Dark tufty hair, blue eyes, chiselled and lightly tanned face. I wanted to rip his clothes off. He was absolutely gorgeous. I, of course, was feeling far from gorgeous - especially after a day at work. With my wild hair hastily pulled back in a grip, my non-smudge mascara smudged and my day before the laundry dregs of my work clothes, I felt more like a bag lady. Even worse, as I dared look at him again whilst stammering that I didn't need help, I got the feeling he'd seen my electric jolt, and he'd blushed becomingly - or knowingly. Gosh, maybe he wanted to rip my clothes off too! Maybe...not. Dream on girl! You're practically middle aged compared to him! As I rammed my shopping into carriers, I kept getting the urge to laugh and I'm sure he saw the corners of my mouth twitching as he checked through the items. Quick, pay him before you become some hysterically laughing idiot! He handed back my cards and I stole one last look at him... one last jolt...before I giggled, grabbed my trolley and RAN - home to hubby, home to safety and away from teenage flashbacks. |