Fairy Tales Can Come True

The "Un" Real Texas By Steve Bussiere, humorist

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"Once upon a time, long, long ago and far away, there was a beautiful young woman."

Jeez, that should have been warning enough right there, but I wasn't paying attention again!

Heck, as though it wasn't bad enough that I have to enter the pharmacy to buy those "female" type products for my daughter, but it actually got even worse than that recently.

Yes Virginia, there is a sanity clause. I've seen it. It was sneaked into my contract by Bob, when I wasn't paying attention.

The last time I wasn't paying attention.

I'm fairly certain that Bob has "an out" this time, but he just doesn't realize it, because he's my publisher and doesn't bother reading anything that I write.

I think he must have spell check, as well as a "sanity clause" in his own contract as well, and is simply protecting his family.

I've never asked him before, but I'd be willing to bet that his daughter sends him to the pharmacy for "female" type products as well. (I think it's some kind of a "daughter thing", their mother's teach them.)

It's pointless to speculate, but a lot of what I do is pointless anyway, so bear with me on this one.

Recently, my sweetie was coming to visit. "Can I ask you a big favor?" she said.

Well, as I said, I guess I wasn't paying attention again. "Sure thing sweetie! Just name it."

I may have said something dumber than that at some point in my past, … but I'll never admit it publicly.

"Well since I'll only be there for a few days, and since I won't be there long enough to do any shopping, would you be a darling and pick something up for me at the store?"

Now, given my earlier statement regarding "dumber statements", I have no alternative other than to admit that my reply came really close, but I consider it a tie at best.

I buy the groceries every week, so no big deal. "Ok, what do you want me to get? Those "Chili Peanuts?"

"No." (pregnant pause), "I was thinking more along the lines of that "secret" place you have down there."

"Aaaaaaaargh!"

I screamed in terror, as visions of "doing the mall" assaulted my mind.

But I took a deep breath, calmed myself down, stopped shaking and answered timidly, "Ok sweetie."

Tentatively, I stepped out the door, got into the car and headed off to visit "Miss Vickie's".

I think I'm going to go into the lingerie business. They get a lot of money, for very little material, in that particular store. I think it's because they have to buy micro needles and surgical thread to stitch that stuff together.

Victoria's Secret is sort of like "Six Flags Over Testosterone" for us old guys. It's actually a really good place to meet women if you're a single guy, but it costs a lot of money.
So I entered the store and started looking around, trying to appear like I knew what I was doing. Yeah suuuure!

I looked so danged healthy with that red flush to my cheeks. As quickly as possible I chose a couple of items I thought she would like, wandered sheepishly to the cash, and was asked by the sensitive young lady if I wanted an "Angel Card." That would entitle me to be a member of the free panty of the month club or something. At least I think that's what she said. I was having a lot of trouble concentrating on anything other than getting out as quickly and inconspicuously as humanly possible. "Besides" I thought to myself, "what do I need an Angel Card for? I think I'm in heaven already."

And then I thought to myself, "What if I meet one of my neighbors? Or one of the guys I coached baseball with. Or even worse, one of my kids, or one of their friends."

Well, to make a long story even longer, that was when I discovered just what Victoria's Secret is.

At one point in my life, I thought it was that you would probably have to be about 16 to fit into any of that stuff, but I was wrong.

Victoria's Secret is that they only have bright, florescent pink bags that scream out to everyone in the mall, just where exactly you have been.

There are no secrets in the mall, a fact that was becoming blatently obvious to me by the minute.

I strode quickly towards the exit when a sudden realization struck me, right between my "Shirley Temple" baby blues.

All the women were smiling at me!

"Damn. Maybe they think I was shopping for me!!!"

"Maybe they think I'm a little light in the Tony Lama's!"

Well, for the sake of historical accuracy, (as well as truth in journalism), I set a personal best time, and quite conceivably a land speed record for exiting the mall.

I started up the car and headed directly for the hospital, where I was treated for third degree wind burn.

I'm going to be all right.

They told me so at the hospital.

But I still get the shakes now, every time I hear that old Beatles song.

You probably remember it. If you're old enough.

I never want to hear it again.

"Listen"

"Do you want to know a secret"

"Do you promise not to tell."

Once upon a time, long, long ago and far away, there was a beautiful young lady."

Thank God.

So all you lovely ladies who may have seen me at the mall, I just want you to know that this is NOT a Fairy Tale!

Y'all got that?