Skip to main content

Orgasm on Aisle 9

I love the grocery store.

No..I REALLY love the grocery store.

I have ALWAYS had a good relationship with food. I never was bulimic or anorexic. My mother never had to fight or bribe me to clean my plate or eat my veggies. I love the way food feels when it slides down my throat and makes me stuffed to the point of wanting to pop. I'm obsessed with recipes and Foot Network. I love food.

That being said, I love the grocery store (and more specifically my local farmer's market). I walk in and the chilly air hits me and armed with my very color coded lists, I walk each and every aisle and get excited....almost like I'm high.. I smell the fruit. I sneak and taste a strawberry before purchase. I smell the imported chocolates.. I pick up some new, exotic spice I want to try. I taste every sample that's on display...I close my eyes and inhale and taste.....(because that's how you really taste...with all of your senses...) and I fall in love with something new every time I go. Love at first bite....

Imported Olive Oils

French Brie cheese

South African Shiraz

Fresh Greek Yogurt

Challah Bread

Sundried tomato chutney

Ahhhh...the grocery store! I LOVE IT!

They say you can find a man in the grocery store...hmmm Eh! I am so not focused on a man when I go to the grocery store. I'm thinking of recipes in my head...and new things I want to try. Besides...there are hardly any fine dudes at the grocery stores I frequent...

Ok...maybe that's a lie

On the rare occasion I see a cute guy in the grocery store, I always look in his cart. The cart is a good indication of how a man is living and his relationship with food. Usually.. if it's filled with beer and hot pockets (that mean he's a bachelor). If it's filled with wine and imported cheeses...that means he's probably a) gay or b) trying to impress a chick. If his cart is filled with steak, sausage, and some potatoes, he's a man who likes the basics and is probably a total bore, can’t cook and is on the go. If I do lock eyes with a guy..and I see he has the right balance of things in his cart with a few surprises.....He smiles... I smile....only to see his chick pull up beside him dumping in her bag of field greens and a bottle of pinot noir to the grocery contribution. *sigh*.... I just shake my head in disappointment.

I do think about one thing: I think about dishes I would like to prepare for a date IF he's deemed worthy of receiving that privilege. I usually tell most men I can’t boil an egg (C’mon now...I'm not letting you eat all my damn food..and NEVER take me out....recession or not!). But it's nice to spoil a deserving sweetie..feeding him hand dipped strawberries I've made... nothing but some Jimmy Choo's......

Ok..snapping out of that fantasy...

I just find way too much enjoyment at the grocery store. It can't be normal...Firm mangos.....juicy lemons.....fresh wild Alaskan salmon...oh the endless culinary possibilities...the endless food porn and orgasms that can happen in my mouth. I get so excited to the point where I can't all goes blurry...and my palms sweat...hands shake...and I let out a sigh...


Better than sex, I tell ya!

And 10 x's as satisfying.

Seriously...Food can be better than sex (unless sex involves food). I'd rather be fat, full and satisfied....than fucking, bored, and dissatisfied. I'm more satisfied eating some Nutella on multigrain bread....than having sex.

Sometimes. :)


  1. I LOVE your love of food, the culinary arts, and the pleasure you get from grocery shopping. I wish I could achieve some of that same joy from an experience that many others just find "ordinary". How cool!

    I enjoyed your description of how much you can read into a man based on the contents of his shopping cart. lol. So true!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

2018: A Year Without Fear

I used to make these lofty, resolution goals each year. The older I got, the grander my ideas became. That is until I reached the age of 30 and my entire life shifted.

At the time, I was divorced, living totally on my own, trying to rebuild myself financially and trying to figure out my next move toward happiness. That was at the time I started this blog.... which started out as my chronicling the dating and mating of a 30 something divorcee' in the South's Largest Metropolis. I was trying to date. I was trying to establish myself financially. And I was trying to find my purpose.

So much has changed in the almost 9 years since I started this blog. I've traveled alone. I gained and lost friends. I got into a Ph.D. program. I got re-married. I lost my mother, my best friend.... not to mention my uncle, cousin, and aunt. I gained a sweet baby girl.  I went from getting my bliss.... to trying to balance that bliss with my own life..... Yet in trying to find the balance, I alw…

I Had Hope For Other Hair: Confessions in Black Motherhood

I had hoped for other hair...
(My Little One Reading a Book Before Bed)

... for my daughter.

No, I didn't want her to have "good hair"... hair that ebbed and flowed close to the weight of Whiteness. I didn't want that for her.  I didn't want her to have hair that was deemed "managable" or "a good grade". as if you can give hair letter grades or grade it on a curve.

I just wanted her to have any hair other than MY hair. She inherited my hair. And I cried.

When I found out I was having a girl, anxiety was replaced with dread. "Dear God.. I have to learn how to do hair". See, growing up, my mother was my stylist, even way into high school. So in between salon visits, she would relax or press my hair. She'd style it or comb it. And I never worried about it. I tried and tried to do my own hair... and failed. The only style I could keep up were Brandy-inspired box braids (which some poor, Senegalese woman would do for hours) or a very sho…

The Art of the Dirty Talk

I am the queen of talking dirty after dark. I mean I am GOOD at it. VERY good. So much so I dated a guy and for months..all he wanted me to do was speak nasty to him. We never has sex. Nothing. Just a bunch of dirty talk....and he was happy. (Hey..a very safe sex fetish!) Heck..I'm even considering picking up some extra income in this economy and becoming a phone sex job does NOT pay enough.

I will say there is an ART to dirty talk. You cant be shy. You cant be a prude and say things 1) you are not comfortable saying and 2) that you certainly can't back up if you are in a position to act on those things with a trust partner. 3 ) things you have no real reference point of familiarity with. Don;t say you are down for a "golden shower" if you think that has something to do with "lemonade kool-aid". DOn't pretend to have a weird accent. That would be ROLE playing..and not "talking dirty". BUT a lot of "talking dirty" is role…