Girls At The Supermarket - A Tribute

Have you ever stopped to wonder, while walking down the aisle at your local supermarket? I have – and it’s not just the high prices and crap choice that has made me go lightheaded!

It seems to me that all the lovely women spend most of their time at the local supermarket. They seem to hide, in between frozen foods and beer and stuck in between you and her are screaming kids, single mothers pushing prams, ignorant pensioners and rugby fans on a mad dash to buy savoury products before their ‘big match’ against Wakefield. These girls are like a diamond stuck in miles of thick rock. Unfortunately you’ve got more chance of finding a diamond stuck in the arse of the statue of Sir Francis Powell in Wigan Park than you have of getting near to one of these girls.

Some of them seem to ooze style, giving off the impression that they shouldn’t be shopping in there. Instead they should be hanging off the arm of some prick footballer or banker, employing their own staff to shop for them. Some just look like your dream woman – lovely to look at, they have a nice smile, intelligent and more importantly – like a bit of real ale!

With supermarkets being able to sell almost anything now, I bet there are plenty of male spies hanging out in the woman’s lingerie department. Sadly I’ve only encountered those single mothers and frustrated 40-somethings who are looking for some ‘rampant rabbits’. Not sure what that is, so I just fooked off to look at the computer games. And I don’t think ASDA sells rabbits, not live ones anyway!

Even the till girls are casting their spell. You know the ones I mean, the student-types who you know will be doing admin at the town hall, when they pass their course. Seems a waste, doesn’t it? But at times, your eyes seem to be stuck on them rather than your products, which she is scanning through the till.

But you’ve got no chance with these girls I’m afraid lads. Empty-headed researches believe that many people meet their future partners in supermarkets. Sorry but that’s just bollocks – women here would just tell you to fook off or ring the fuzz like they do in your local pub. I mean how embarrassing would be to get rejected in front of some melons or ‘down the chocolate aisle’? They are just there to look at, boys - don’t touch as they are probably already with some steroid-filled twat who could smash your face in with one punch. That’s the way of the world I’m afraid – women just don’t go for real men like you or me.

Anyway, I would like to salute these women for ‘keeping it real’ and providing male shoppers with a reason for going out, apart from work and the pub! Cheers girls!