This wasn't the first time he'd seen her here at the supermarket. It was a few of weeks ago, on a Wednesday, that he first cast his eyes upon her mature, full figure and her fine head topped by billows of natural red hair. She was about 45, and her large hips and breasts where accented by a slim waist. She was a West Texas earth mother type, but with a hint of sadness. Since then, he'd made Wednesdays his regular shopping day in the faint hope that he might run into her again. And now, here she was in front of him.
Bill wasn't very shy, but there was some risk in approaching the object of his lust in a grocery store. He had been shot down before, but at 55 years of age, Bill didn't waste time feeling sorry for himself or contemplating failure. Life was all too short to waste it like that, or in any of the other ways he had done so in the past. Now, life was about the moment, because you never knew how many more moments were available to you.
So, with only a vague plan in mind, Bill approached the redhead in the produce section. At first, he just watched her as she put a bag of limes into her cart and milled around by the asparagus. When he saw her heading toward the lettuce, Bill moved in closer.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Do you know if this red lettuce tastes any different than the green? I wanna make a really nice salad tonight."
She glanced at Bill sideways, not sure he was speaking to her, and he caught her eye.
"Not much difference between the two. At least, I can't tell the difference."
"Well, I'll trust you then. You look like you might be a real salad expert, with all the exotic stuff you have in your basket."
The woman was turned toward him now, trying to decide if he was a moron, or if he was trying to pick her up. Or both. Honestly, it had been so long since she'd attracted this much attention from a man that she thought he might be trying to distract her, so she reflexively put her hand on her purse.
"Oh, I wouldn't say I was an expert, really", she said, testing the waters. Bill smiled gently and gazed directly into her eyes.
"Tell me," he said, picking up a cucumber by the end. "Do you like a big cucumber in your salad?" Bill let the cuke bob up and down a couple of times.
The woman smiled. "What do you know," she thought. "A real pickup artist. Boy, will he be surprised when my husband shows up in a minute."
"Sure. Sometimes I like a really big cucumber," she smirked.
Bill dropped the cuke and reached for a carrot. "If you don't have a cucumber, will you sometimes settle for a carrot?" Bill held the carrot by the end and raised the other end slowly until it was pointing over her shoulder, his smile holding her eyes.
"Hmm. Carrots can be good, too."
"I'm really attracted to this red lettuce," Bill said softly, looking away. "I just know it'll taste great."
"Honey, did you get the lightbulbs?" she said. For a moment, Bill was confused. And then a big gorilla of a man brushed by his shoulder and put some items into the woman's basket. Bill dropped the carrot back in the bin and moved his cart slowly in the other direction. As the couple left the produce section, the buxom redhead gave Bill a little smile over her shoulder, as if saying, "Nice try, buddy."
"Husband, huh? Something tells me that's not the showstopper it might be," thought Bill.
For the next 15 minutes, Bill tailed Big Red and her pet gorilla. It seemed that whenever she'd look up, he'd be there, lurking somewhere nearby, but not too close. Bill pulled an old receipt out of his shirt pocket and scribbled his cell phone number on it. Several times as Red encountered Bill in the aisles, she saw him slightly wave the piece of paper in his hand.
Finally, he was standing at the end of an aisle when Gorilla passed behind him, and he held the receipt between his index and middle fingers, bending his wrist back to offer it to her as she pushed the cart within a foot of him. On a whim, she took the paper and stuffed it into her skirt pocket.
All he could do now was wait and hope. Bill paid for his groceries and sat in his pickup truck outside, waiting to see which car Red was driving.
-----
It was 7:30 the next morning when Bill's phone rang. He was already on his way to work, passing near the same shopping center where the supermarket was. He pulled over and answered.
"Hi, it's Bill". There were a couple of seconds of dead air. Then she spoke.
"Bill, I'm the redhead you were stalking in the grocery store yesterday."
"Umm, let's not call it stalking, okay? That kinda has legal ramifications. Let's just say I'm your not-so-secret admirer. Besides, a stalker wouldn't give you his number, would he?"
"Well, whatever. I don't know why I'm calling. I only took your number so you'd go away. I'm not getting into anything shady. I'm married, and I'm not looking for trouble. I mean, you seem like an okay guy, a little weird, but you probably ought to just forget about me."
"Aren't you curious about why I approached you yesterday? I don't do this kind of thing as a rule."
"Look, it would probably be really fun to talk to you, but I'm driving. I just wanted to call to say I'm married. You know that. I can't...I don't want to..."
"Are you someplace where you can pull over and talk for a couple of minutes? You can give me that, can't you?" As Bill spoke, he saw what he thought was Red's blue Nissan pass him, slow down, and turn into the supermarket parking lot. He watched as the Nissan pulled to a stop in a parking slot.
"Okay, I pulled over. Go ahead and say what you have to say, and then I've gotta go to work." She sounded stressed.
"First off, I don't know your name. Give me something to call you. You can make something up, if you don't trust me."
"Okay, I'm Bonnie. That's my real name."
"Bonnie by name, and bonny by appearance. I'm Bill, like I said. I've seen you at the grocery before, and I've been hoping to see you again. I got a feeling when I saw you that first time. It's like you were a mink coat that somebody had tossed into the bottom of the closet. You're someone classy and classic, but you're not being cared for. Somebody is disinterested or thinks you're out of fashion, and so they let you languish. Somebody should treat you better. That's the feeling I got. Was I right?"
"No, I'm fine. I'm married. Things are as good as I can expect. I mean, sure, I could be happier, probably, but I have the life I have. Nothing I can do to change it."
"How about your sex life? How long has it been since you got laid?" asked Bill eyeing the woman in the blue Nissan.
"Wow, that's pretty personal, for somebody I just met."
"Bonnie, we may never talk or meet again. Who better than me to spill your guts to? Sometimes a stranger can be your best friend."
Bonnie was quiet for many seconds. Then she sniffed.
"Okay, I haven't had sex for over a year. My husband goes out a lot with his buddies, and he drinks too much. I stay home and watch TV. That's my life."
"Do you masturbate?"
"Oh, now that's really over the line! I'm not going to answer a question like that!"
"Bonnie, you're not an old woman. You deserve a sex life of some kind. With the terrific body you have, I'll bet you really enjoyed sex at one time. Maybe your husband just squeezed all the fun out of it over the years. That can happen in any relationship."
"Terrific body. Right. How can you say that when you've seen these hips?"
"Would I have made the effort to 'stalk' you, as you say, if you weren't attractive? Curvy women have always been attractive to me. And not just me. Most men like women who look like women, not like a boy or a stick. Besides, if it weren't for those nice hips, you'd be top heavy."
The line was silent again.
"Look, I don't really have a sex life. I hardly ever masturbate. I just don't get excited very much. And if I do, it's always inconvenient to do anything about it. Either I'm at work or he's around, or I'm just too tired. I don't have the time or energy for a sex life."
She paused. "Maybe my sex life is kind of over."
"No, that really would be tragic. Sex doesn't take away from your energy. It gives you energy. And it hardly ever takes a lot of time. You're not at work now. You're in your car someplace. Are there lots of people around?"
Since he was watching her car at that moment, Bill knew the answer to that question.
"I'm in a parking lot, and it's pretty empty right now."
"See, you could be masturbating right now."
"No way! I would never be able to get off in public! I'd be scared somebody would come up and look in my window."
"Bonnie, do this for me. I'm not going to ask you to do anything dangerous. Are you wearing a skirt?"
"Yes. And don't even think about getting me started here."
"Pull it up to your waist. Nobody will see that. If somebody looks at you, they'll just see a woman talking on a cell phone. Pull your skirt up and just run your hand over your thighs. Just feel how soft they are. Are you doing that?"
"Yeah. God, I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Run your hand down between your thighs. I'm not gonna ask you to actually masturbate. I just want you to feel and remember how nice it is to touch yourself. Look down and watch your hand. Run your hand over your panties. Feel that cleft between your lips. Tell me how soft you are. Tell me how your freckled hand looks gliding over your skin."
