You go about your morning as usual other than you remember it's friday but Gramma lets you stay home, eventually while brushing your teeth your Grandmother calls you. Upon confronting her she tells you that she'd like you to help her with aquiring the groceries. That kind, innocent, gentlemanly part of you (the part she raised) tempts you to say, "Sure thing Gramma!" In that enthusiastic, effeminate tone you've come to be known for over the years. However, the other much more confusing, dark and downright weird part of yourself (the part you conjured up all by yourself) shuts your mouth for you.
Damnit, Grandma knows about your "condition", it's quite improper for her to just blatantly ignore it like that. The generous portion of you says that maybe she forgot? She is getting older, sometimes you forget she isn't as young as your mother would've been.
"Jacob, you're taking too long to respond for anything good to come out of your mouth." she says, drawing you back to reality.
"Oh sorr- Grandma, I can't help but feel the slightest bit wounded at that," you say back, why does she seem upset with you?
"I know when you stop and do your little day dreams that the answer will either be no or it'll just never come."
"Now that's not always tr-" she cuts you off...she never cuts you off.
"Look, I've tried to be as tolerant of your so called 'condition' as I can with you but you can't keep avoiding the town," she says with what looks to be actual concern for you now, "I even let you miss church because of your whole issue," she adds.
You blush lightly, out of embarrassment and slight arousal at the memory. When you were younger you began to discover your darker desires through those weekly visits. Watching the people all put, stock, change into the pot at the end of each ceremony was oddly arousing for you. It often left you stressing, desperate to hide your boner. Eventually you felt so bad about doing that in Church of all places that you told your Grandma. Since then she often lets you avoid it, but nonetheless despite her adoration for you that was a very awkward conversation to have.
"But you can't keep avoiding something as simple as the damn grocery store. You're 17, when you move out you're just gonna force your lover to do all the shopping alone?" She's never brought this up before, how long had she been feeling this way?
"I know, just, I'm figuring things out I... Okay not like that but just, I-" All aboard the stutter train, prepare for derailment.
"I'm not asking, I'm telling you that you're coming along. Get in the car, honey." With that she leaves to get ready.
You reluctantly enter the mini van accepting your fate. You try to look on the bright side. Maybe to spite her, instead of fighting it you could give in and take pleasure in this grocery trip. You've dreaded grocery visits since your younger years when you developed an inexplicable obsession with grocery store staff.
Just seeing foods go from one place to another, knowing that inevitably it may one day be yours is too much. Almost like some sort of dominance kink you apply to the food that inadvertently is reflected upon the grocers themselves. Since store staff are how the food is put in that vulnerable position you just need to have them. If you have them, then you have the food in a way. Just thinking about the men and women at the local grocery gets your celery stiff.
The trip goes alright but you were too self conscious to really enjoy it, after that hour you're back in the car with your beloved Grandmother. Your mind is still flooded with the repetitive images of the woman restocking the apples, that handsome lad restocking the soda section. You try your hardest to force the thoughts, as well as your body's response to them, away. When suddenly your call is answered by your Grandmother distracting you.
"Ya know I'm sorry for raising my voice earlier but every time that's how it goes. You stutter your way through the entire conversation until you're off the hook. I just don't want you to become a hermit over," she glances at your lap and she immediately regrets it, "this. A-anyways since you came willingly you can pick out a movie at BrockBustler 'kay?" You suddenly feel a large smile invade your face.