Lolita Wolf's Predictions & Predilections

It was one of those big sprawling suburban supermarkets. I remember how my mother would love to take me food shopping when she visited me at college. She would swoon over the big selection and the wide aisles. We didn’t have supermarkets like that in the city. Still don’t.

Anyway, Don Quixote and I stopped into the supermarket to pick up raspberries and milk. I slipped my hand into his big paw. As we approached the fruits, DQ rejected by hand. A sudden, urgent rejection. He rejected my hand as if he were playing a game of Hot Potato.

“Look over there,” he motioned. “I totally have a crush on that guy. He’s sorta part bear and part punk. So hot.”

Aha! I totally understand how difficult it is to cruise a man while holding hands with a girl. I stepped out of fuckbuddy mode and into fag-hag mode in order to facilitate his cruising.

But the punkbear never noticed us. He was deeply engrossed in picking out peaches with another guy.

We wandered off to the dairy section for milk and did not run into them again.