I have a friend who is getting married in less than a week. Last night was her bachelorette dinner & personal shower. I'm usually the wild gift giver at personal showers. Don't get me wrong, I always pick a quality item (usually from Victoria's Secret) but if anyone at the shower is giving you a costume, dice or crotchless anything--it's probably me. However, I do try to pick things that the person will like. And I knew that my friend would not really be into anything like that. Save the leather and handcuffs for another shower.
So I got her a nice gift I thought she'd like (and she did). Then I remembered (from my college days of randomly taking people to Hustler) that at Hustler they had these underwear that had guys names on them. I thought that was kind of silly and fun but not so crazy that she'd never use it (and they probably cost a couple bucks, no huge waste). I had to go to my grandma's house anyway, and it's on the opposite side of town (not too far from Hustler) so I thought I'd swing in and grab a pair.
I pulled into the parking lot and there was a decent number of cars there, and a guy in the parking space facing mine on his phone or something; I didn't think anything of it. I went inside and began my search. Well, first of all they didn't have underwear with the guy's name on them. And he's got a normal name, it's not like I was looking for panties that said "Sebastian" or something. That was disappointing, but then I looked at the price tag--$19.99?! For $20 I expect a product that more than one person can see me in. I quickly look through the rest of the stuff to see if there was anything that might make a nice addition to my gift. Nope. So I left.
When I went to my car, I discovered that the guy in the other car was still there...only now he was reading. Reading a magazine. A magazine with the telltale tri-fold page. What is going on in your life that you can't wait to get your porno magazine back to your home or hotel room? Do you really need to read it in your non-tinted window car, in the store parking lot? I guess there must have been a really good article in there. It was so hard not to stare, but I refrained. I figure the last guy you want to make accidental eye contact with is the creeper (or one of the creepers) looking at porn in the Hustler parking lot.