A fictional story by Bert

While I had just about finished my shopping for some wine, Parisian bread, 

cheese and pate, which I had planned to use as lunch and daytime snacks,

I  found myself standing in line at the grocery store cash-line in Cap d'Agde. 

And as always I was naked, as everyone around me was.

While patiently waiting in the huge line to the cashier, who hopefully would
quickly take my money, I became very aware of the very loud, and somewhat
abrasive, portly American behind me, wearing only flip-flops and a straw
hat, while his very sunburned face, spotted a huge white, zinc ointment
covered nose. He insisted for whatever reason in standing far too close to
me for my own comfort. I tried ignoring him by paying attention to the
woman in front of me, who truly was a sight to behold. The woman had a huge
shopping cart, laden with groceries. It would clearly take a while before
she would be finished. At the same time, I was definitely not going to back
up, in fear of being skewered by the American, whose attention was obviously
totally 'aimed' at the woman in front of me. (Thank goodness for little
favours!)

The very pretty woman in front of me, wearing only high-heeled toe sandals,
with her nails, painted a vibrant red, being very coquettish with her
see-thru silk scarf, which I am sure was meant to protect her from the
blazing sun within this store, seemed to become quite giddy over the
somewhat casual flirtations by the very handsome male cashier, . . . who
unbeknownst to her in fact had locked eyes with me, over her shoulders,
speaking an unspoken language, only gay men truly understand.

Anyway, by the time the woman was just about to finish with the cashier, I
realized I had a slight problem on my hand, which had very little to do with
the woman, albeit she indeed was very charming. If I wouldn't act
immediately, I would surely have one of the most embarrassing moments of my
life ahead of me, and I do mean this literally, resulting from the cashier's
unspoken 'eye' words. I, quickly and as nonchalantly as I could, pulled my
shoulder-bag in front of my ever growing salute, while retrieving my wallet
from the front flap of my bag, clearly covering the first signs of my
physical delight, about the cashier's not-so-subtle attention towards me.

This little tactical manoeuvre quickly seemed to have resolved my almost
guaranteed impending doom. Now it was my turn, and with a beet-red face, I
passed my goodies by the scanner, while the cashier told me: " Sir, I
realize you must be new to the area. I haven't seen you here before. You
should really be careful with that bad sunburn on your face, otherwise you
may end up looking like the guy behind you, having zinc all over it."

I responded as kind as I could be, while also somewhat trying to flirt back
in return: "I don't think, it will be the zinc ointment I need to worry
about . . . . ." and before I could finish my statement, the guy behind me
blurted out: "Are you kidding, that gal could have made a bag-hook out of
all of us!"

I am sure the man behind me never realized, that he single handedly had just
exposed my slight predicament to all those who surrounded us, and with an
even redder face, I quickly left the store after paying for my purchases,
realizing the guy will probably never know the true reason for my slight
embarrassment.

I am not sure if it was me or the cashier who was actually more embarrassed
about the man's abrasive outburst, as even the cashier at this point became
quite flushed, although when after the fact I looked at my grocery receipt,
I realized the cashier had made use of the moment, by writing his personal
phone number on it with the message: 'pease call me.'

In hindsight we had a great laugh about the entire incident, . . . but
frankly that part of the story is definitely not meant for publication in
this newsletter, suffice it to say that the cashier and I have been good
friends ever since.