Aisle 20

Ladies I'm sure you can relate to this one. Enjoy!

Aisle 20

It's 10.00 pm. You've been tossing around in bed for the past hour attempting to get some sleep but you can no longer hold off your chocolate cravings.

That's it! You throw off the blankets, climb out of bed, and head for the front door. You step into your winter boots and put on your coat over your Hello Kitty flannel print PJs. 

Its getting close  to that time of the month so that explains your crankiness and impatience to change into something more appropriate. But damn that! You've had a long day filled with trying to please your obnoxious boss, your nagging mom, and your needy pets. I'm sorry Fluffy. I love you. You think silently to yourself. But so help me God if I dont satisfy my mumchies, I may just turn your fluffly body into a door mat.

So you quickly grab your keys and head for your car. As the ignition starts, the radio resumes. Somehow a rap song is on. You don't listen to rap but the lyrics are saying something about smokin' out the boss.

Hmmm this is nice. Raising the volume and lowering the windows on this freezing winter night, you speed off towards the local Wal-mart.

The music is creating an adrinaline rush as the odometer nears 90. When you finally enter the superstore's parking lot-thankfully in one piece, you plot to yourself on how you plan on navigating a bee-line to the junk food section.

The store is huge but you spot a worker stocking shelves in the corner and march on over to him. 

"Where's the Oreos?" 

"Aisle 20," he mumbles without a glance back.

"Where's Aisle 20?," you ask.

He finally turns around slowly, glares at you with his bloodshot eyes and forcefully jerks his arm in the opposite direction. 

It looks like you're not the only one PMSing. So like a determined soldier you march off in that direction.

10...13...16 Damn these aisles are long and you really don't need anymore distance between you and your chocolaty satisfaction.

18...19..20.....

BANG!!!

As you hit the floor a sharp pain runs throughout your body. It is only intensified as you attempt to get up.

"I am so so sorry. Are you alright?" says a voice in the distance. A hand reaches out to you and you grab it. After you are pulled up from the floor, you are now standing face to face with the most gorgeous man you have ever laid eyes on. He searches yours with concern. His lips are moving but all you hear is silence. The world has stopped moving and everything is eerily silent. The late night cravings have subsided. Your angry mood has settled. You now realise his hand is still holding yours and the only thoughts racing through your mind now is: My goodness! His eyes are amazing. So full of concern. Full of concern for me!

Your knees get weak and horrifically your thoughts morph into: Oh my God! Im standing in front of what could possibly be the man of my dreams wearing scuffed up unlaced boots and Hello Kitty Flannels!

Oh Lord why the irony? Why? Why didn't you inspire me to at least put on some lipgloss?