Short Stories

Dear Karen,

Thank you very much for inviting me to your birthday party last weekend.  As you could probably tell I had a great time.  Unfortunately I didn't get an opportunity to thank you properly at the end of the night, so I thought I'd write you a quick letter.

You have a lovely apartment, the decorations for the party looked beautiful.  Everybody was dressed so nicely, I must admit I felt like a bit of a schmuck when I arrived wearing my Donald Duck t shirt.  I believe it was your neighbor who made the comment that it looked like I had 'picked out my outfit at Walmart'.  In fact I bought the shirt when I went to Disneyworld in 2002.  It might surprise your neighbor to know my shirt actually cost $40, though I admit it has seen better days.

Please tell your brother I owe him two cans of Guinness.  I didn’t realize we were meant to bring our own drinks to the party.  After re-reading your invitiation I admit it does quite clearly state 'please bring-your-own drinks'. I certainly regret screaming 'I hope you f*cking choke on it you bitch', but he did grab the can of Guinness off me quite aggressively.

I think the half can of beer I did enjoy put me into a party mood, I thought we could have used some good dance music.  I know I shouldn't have yelled "turn this shi*t off and put some real music on!'  I had no idea it was a CD of your cousins new band.  Although emo-folk isn't really my cup of tea your cousin is obviously very talented and I'm sure he will be very successful with his music career.

I thought the highlight of the evening was the conversation at dinner, your uncle is quite the character, he would make a lot of money if he ever put his jokes into a book.  Trying to keep up with the rest of the group I told the only joke I could remember off the top of my head. Obviously my joke about "What do you say to a black Jew" was not appropriate for the audience present.  But I think you would agree that the punch line "Go to the back of the oven" sparked a lively discussion on the holocaust.  Your grandmother in particular gave a few very interesting anecdotes about her time in Crackcow.  She has inspired me to learn more about Nazi concentration camps, I am going to pick up a book the next time I'm at the library.

Once again I would like to thank you for inviting me to your party. I would have called to thank you in person but whenever I try I seem to get the machine (sorry about all the messages!). By the way, I think you might need to check your email account� I tried emailing you but I just get a message back "your message was undeliverable".  Anyway, I'm sure we will catch up soon,

Your friend,
Trevor

The man wandered into the supermarket with a low face and high hopes. He had read in some magazine that the supermarket was the place to meet women, everybody went to the supermarket. People, that was where he had read it. He usually didn’t bother with those types of magazines, but he was at the dentists the other day, waiting to be seen, so …
The man had thought long and hard about where women would be in the
supermarket, and realized it all depended on the type of women the man
wanted. He knew what kind of a woman he would meet in the liquor section, but the man wasn’t a big drinker. Sure, he had the occasional beer, but he was happy with a coffee. The man figured the women he would meet in the spice section could be fun, maybe even a bit too wild actually. He thought about the deli section, any women there probably wouldn’t be too big on cooking and just wanted to pick up some pre-cooked meals. Hmm, he was a big fan of the Food Network, the kind of woman he wanted at least had to know a little about cooking
Then he thought, the dairy section! Think about it, the man was a big fan of dairy, its pretty much a basic necessity in life. He was onto something.
As the man made his way to the dairy section, which was way back in the far end of the supermarket, he scanned the aisles to see which section he might try the next time he was out to pick up women.
He couldn’t believe how many varieties of yogurt there were, he started counting - 3 … 5 … 9 .. 11 then he saw a nice looking women, she had been standing in front of him the whole time. Looking at eggs, she would grab a carton, and then check to make sure all 12 eggs were still intact. The man thought this was great; a couple times he had bought a carton of eggs, took them home only to find one or two of the eggs were broken. He always swore next time he’d check the eggs before he bought them, but when the situation came up he was always embarrassed to check – he thought people would see him and think he was either a tight ass, or overly pedantic.
He parked his cart next to the cheeses and reached across for a package of Kraft cheese. Just before his hand reached the cheese he stopped …. Maybe he should pick a better quality cheese? Maybe something from France, or some other place in Europe? His arm was blocking the woman and she had to excuse herself so that she could get to the milk.
“Oh .. I’m sorry,” the man said.
“That’s ok,” said the women, she was obviously aware that the man was noticing her, but she was smiling
“They keep the fresher milk in the back,” said the man, hoping to strike up a conversation.
“Thanks,” the woman replied, still smiling!
“Anytime. Say, I’m going to see a movie later on, Would you like to join me?”
The women looked up in amazement. Had this man in the dairy section just asked her to go see a movie?
“Well, that sounds really nice actually … but I have to take my groceries home. Maybe another time?”
“Great!” the man exclaimed, his voice sounding a little too high probably too happily. “So, can I call you sometime?’
“Sure,” the woman replied, she wrote her phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to the man.
Walking away, the woman smiled and told him to call later that evening. The man walked away grinning from ear to ear.
Awestruck at the power of the supermarket, the man decided to celebrate with a bag of chocolate chip cookies. The man deserted his cart and paid for the cookies. He had to have another glance at the paper with the lady’s phone number, hardly believing a match could really be made in the dairy section.