Mr. Ziggles Goes to the Grocery Store
It was a lovely sunny morning in Hollywood, Florida. Which made it real unfortunate that Mr. Ziggles was in San Francisco where it was raining.
"...I am perfection!" Mr. Ziggles' phone rang. He liked to hear his theme song which is why he had it everywhere... on his phone, his alarm clock, and even his iPod had seventy-two versions of it. Mr. Ziggles' had an inferiority complex. He needed to remind himself quite often how good looking he was.
"Hello, Mr. Ziggles," It was Mr. Morrison, Mr. Ziggles' best friend in the whole wide world. "how are you today?"
"I am perfection!" Mr. Ziggles responded, eliciting a small chuckle from the man on the other end.
"That's good. Mr. Mizanin and I are going to the grocery store and we were wondering if you'd like to join us?"
The grocery store... that sounded like a lot of fun. Mr. Ziggles loved shopping for things, whether they be melons, cucumbers, or even spinach. To go with two of his bestest friends would make the day even more special.
"We'll pick you up in ten minutes, Mr. Ziggles."
"I'll be ready, Mr. Morrison." Mr. Ziggles hung up the phone and danced around his room. Maybe today wasn't going to be so bad after all. He picked out a special "going to the grocery store" outfit and took his time getting dressed.
Since it was raining, Mr. Ziggles grabbed his umbrella. He didn't want rain getting his beautiful blond locks wet. He pranced out of his house and waited for his friends to arrive.
"Where are you off to?" Mr. Ziggles next-door neighbors, Mr. Michaels and Mr. H were talking on the sidewalk. Now Mr. Michaels and Mr. H were gay which meant that they liked cucumbers a lot more than they liked melons. Mr. Ziggles liked melons himself, but that didn't mean that he hated Mr. Michaels and Mr. H.
"I'm going to the grocery store." Mr. Ziggles announced proudly. "Mr. Morrison and Mr. Mizanin are picking me up."
Mr. H looked at Mr. Michaels. "That reminds me, we're out of cucumbers."
Mr. Michaels giggled. "I guess we'll have to go the grocery story as well."
"Why don't you come with me and Mr. Morrison and Mr. Mizanin?"
Mr. Michaels and Mr. H looked at each other, nodding their heads in agreement. "I'd like that Mr. Ziggles." Mr. Michaels smiled
Mr. H looked angry. Mr. H had problems cornering his anger and that made Mr. Ziggles sad. He didn't like people to be angry, especially those that carried around sledgehammers.
"I'll be right back." Mr. H went inside.
"This will be fun." Mr. Michaels bounced from foot to foot. "I like spending Mr. H's money."
"Did I hear someone talk about spending money?" Mr. Ziggles' other neighbor, Mr. Hardy, entered the conversation.
"We're all going to the grocery store." Mr. Michaels announced proudly.
"Awesome. Imma come too?"
"Of course." Mr. Ziggles stated, hoping that Mr. Morrison had enough room in his car for the six of them.
When Mr. Morrison and Mr. Mizanin arrived, they were informed that Mr. Michaels, Mr. H, and Mr. Hardy were coming to the grocery store with them.
"Cool." Mr. Mizanin replied "Well, get in and let's go."
The other four jumped into the back seat of Mr. Morrison's car. Mr. Michaels sat on Mr. H's lap, which made Mr. Ziggles a little uncomfortable. Thankfully Mr. Hardy was between them, and he didn't seem to mind.
They arrived at their local grocery store: "McMahon's", named after the founder, who as he always did, was standing outside the store greeting his loyal customers.
"Good morning, Mr. Ziggles. Welcome to McMahon's."
"Good morning, Mr. McMahon."
This interaction was repeated with Mr. Morrison, Mr. Mizanin, Mr. Michaels, Mr. H, and Mr. Hardy. Once the pleasantries were exchanged, they each got shopping carts and started to fill them. Mr. Ziggles was halfway down the aisle when he slapped his forehead. "Darn!" he exclaimed
"What's wrong, Mr. Ziggles?" The assistant manager, Mr. Ross asked. Mr. Ross was a very large man, not at all sexy like Mr. Ziggles, but Mr. Ross was very smart when it came to food.
"I forgot my list." Mr. Ziggles answered "Now I don't know what to buy."
"Might a suggest a side of Oklahoma ribs covered with Mr. Ross' barbecue sauce?"
Mr. Ziggles looked at Mr. Ross. "That sounds delicious." He said
"Freezer section is that way."
"Thank-you Mr. Ross." Mr Ziggles steered his cart toward the frozen meat section, bumping into Mr. Hardy on the way. He had filled his cart with Skittles, Pixie Stix, and other sweet things. Mr. Ziggles liked sweet things, but his mom had told him that too much sweet stuff would make his teeth fall out and then he wouldn't be liked by girls.
"Whee!" Mr. H spun his cart in circles. "Hiya, Mr. Ziggles! Shopping is fun!"
"Yes, it is." Mr. Ziggles swerved around Mr. Hardy and headed for the meat. On his way, he met a lady he was acquainted with.
"Good morning, Mr. Ziggles." She said
"Good morning, Miss Kanellis. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
Miss Kanellis laughed. "You're silly, Mr. Ziggles. It's raining out."
Mr. Ziggles also laughed. "I was being polite. My mommy told me to always be polite to girls you like."
A blush crept to Miss Kanellis' face. "I like you too Mr. Ziggles. Maybe we can go out sometime?"
Mr. Ziggles nodded. "I'd like that. I'll see you later. I have to finish my shopping."
"Okay. Have fun Mr. Ziggles."
"You too." Mr. Ziggles waved as he finally made it to the meat section, full of all kind of treats of every size, shape, and color.
"Uh-oh." There was one other person in the meat section: Mr. Gaspard. Mr. Ziggles did not like Mr. Gaspard because he sometimes took things that didn't belong to him. Mr. Gaspard was also taller and bigger than Mr. Ziggles, so Mr. Ziggles was a little scared of him.
"Yo, yo, yo, Ziggles... what's up, my man!" Mr. Gaspard patted Mr. Ziggles on the back.
"H-h-h-hello, Mr. Gaspard. What is up with you?"
"Nothing much. Just pickin' up a few things." While Mr. Ziggles watched, Mr. Gaspard took a tray of chicken legs, a ham, and a pound of ground beef and stuffed them into the baggy pants he wore.
Mr. Ziggles swallowed nervously, but said nothing.
"Anything I can grab for ya?" Mr. Gaspard asked
"N-no thank-you." Mr. Ziggles answered
"Okay, my man... keep it real." Without another word, Mr. Gaspard strolled out of the grocery store.
Mr. Ziggles grabbed the biggest slab of ribs he could find and went searching for the barbecue sauce. He found it in aisle six, where he met yet another one of his friends. Mr. Reso was scanning the labels, looking for something in particular.
"Excuse me." Mr. Ziggles squeezed in. Mr. Reso happened to be standing right in front of the sauce he was looking for.
"Well, hello. How's my main 'peep'?"
Now Mr. Ziggles wasn't exactly sure what a 'peep' was, but since Mr. Reso seemed to be happy, he assumed it was a good thing.
"Very good." Mr. Ziggles answered "And how are you?"
"Awesome." Mr. Reso stated "Can't decide which sauce to go with dinner, though."
"What are you having?"
"Mr. Copeland is cooking. He just said get some sauce."
Mr. Ziggles frowned. Mr. Copeland was not the best cook in the world, so the sauce was usually the most important part of any dinner he made.
"Mr. Ross suggested this." He showed Mr. Reso what he'd picked out.
Mr. Reso scanned the label. "Strong flavor... good, that's what I need. Thank-you very much Mr. Ziggles." Whether by accident or on purpose, he put the bottle that Mr. Ziggles had intended to buy for himself in his own cart and wheeled away. Mr. Ziggles just shrugged and grabbed another bottle for himself.
The next aisle was full of things Mr. Ziggles liked to eat, and Mr. Morrison too. His cart was almost empty, yet he'd been in the store for exactly the same amount of time as Mr. Ziggles.
"Having fun, Mr. Morrison?"
"Shhhh, Mr. Ziggles." Mr. Morrison whispered "She'll hear you."
"Who?"
"That cute check-out girl." Mr. Morrison pointed to the lady running the express line.
"That's Miss McCool." Mr. Ziggles answered helpfully. "I think she's taken though."
"Taken? By who?"
"Mr. Callaway, the butcher." Mr. Ziggles said
"You mean the big guy with all the tattoos?" Mr. Morrison's face darkened at this new information.
"Yes. I hear he doesn't like people checking out his checkout girl. Rumor has it the last person who did that became a rump roast."
Mr. Morrison swallowed nervously.
"I'm kidding about the rump roast." Mr. Ziggles laughed, while Mr. Morrison tried to pretend that he knew it was a joke.
"Oh well." He sighed "I'm off to the produce section."
"I think it was ground chuck." Mr. Ziggles turned toward the canned food section. On his way, he passed the dairy case and picked up two liters of chocolate milk and some Triple Chocolate ice cream, his only weaknesses.
Turning the corner, now in the produce section, he watched Mr. Michaels and Mr. H have a sword fight with two large cucumbers in one part, while Mr. Mizanin filmed it all on his phone.
Mr. Ziggles also watched.
"Can I get through please?" Mr. Ziggles pushed his cart to one side to allow access by Mr. Bourne, one of the stock boys.
"Thank-you."
Mr. Ziggles turned his attention from Mr. Michaels and Mr. H to Mr. Bourne. He could not take his eyes off the muscular young man. There was something alluring about him, and it had nothing to do with the way he was stacking tomatoes.
"See something you like, Ziggles?" It was Mr. Michaels. He'd finished his battle with Mr. H and Mr. Mizanin was showing him the fight scene across the aisle.
"Uh, no..." Mr. Ziggles stuttered
"Sure looks that way to me." Mr. Michaels was very open about his life, not that there is anything wrong with that. "Just go talk to him."
"Mr. Michaels... what are you saying? That I'm..."
"I ain't sayin' nothin." Mr. Michaels replied, walking away.
Mr. Ziggles continued to watch Mr. Bourne stack tomatoes, then move on to carrots, potatoes, and radishes. Every time he stretched to stock higher up, his shirt raised up, revealing tanned skin and causing Mr. Ziggles' heart to pound faster.
"Are you almost ready to go?" Mr. Morrison shouted across the floor.
Mr. Ziggles turned his head, nodding agreement. He joined them at the check-out and couldn't help hearing the giggles from Mr. Michaels and Mr. H.
They paid for their groceries and returned to Mr. Ziggles' home. The rain had stopped and the sun was shining.
"That was fun, Mr. Ziggles." Mr. Morrison said
"I enjoyed myself, Mr. Morrison."
Once everyone had said their goodbyes, the car drove off. Mr. Ziggles could feel Mr. Michaels' gaze upon him as he walked inside and he was sure that by morning, the entire street would hear that he'd been ogling a stock boy at McMahon's.
While he was putting his groceries away, Mr. Ziggles realized that he had forgotten to get potatoes. He'd been so busy staring at the boy stacking them, he'd neglected to pick some up. And ribs by themselves wasn't much of a dinner.
"Looks I have to go back." Mr. Ziggles said and found that he was looking forward to it as much as the first trip.