Christmas Day-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

I sit on my boyfriend’s bed reading some web pages on my smartphone while he prepares me a breakfast of French Toast.

These web pages seem to indicate to me that while I am only seventeen, I am of the legal age of consent in our state. A part of me wants to tell my boyfriend this, but another part is afraid that he will leave me because he feels no obligation to stay with me. I’ve been rejected countless times before, but he is the first person I ever had sex with. He claims that I am the only one he ever had sex with. God, I hope that is true.

He is now walking into the bedroom. Awkwardly, I smile at him then give him a kiss.

“Breakfast is ready, baby,” He tells me.

“Good because I am hungry!” I tell him as I giggle.

He serves us the food and we eat, smiling at each other from ear to ear.

As we are finishing up breakfast, both of our phones alert us to a Freeze Warning for our city.

I then tell him, “I would like for you to meet my parents today.”

“All right I’m all for that. I hope they accept me as much as you have.”

“Regardless of what happens, I will still love you.”

“I will still love you too, no matter what, but they might not let you see me.”

“They can only legally do that for six weeks.”

“Still, I’d rather be on their good side.”

“I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

We get dressed in his drafty house.

He sees me shivering and says, “Take my extra jacket.”

“Awe, thanks!” I tell him with a kiss.

We walk out of the house and he locks the door.

We then exit his yard and he locks the hurricane fence.

He opens the passenger door for me to get in, then enters on the driver’s side.

We leave his run-down neighborhood and get on the Interstate.

The ride is quiet, but then I say, “You know I’d been doing some research while you were making me breakfast and I found out that I am legal in this state.”

“What you mean?”

“You didn’t break any laws by sleeping with me because, in our state, the age of consent is seventeen.”

“Wow! I thought it was eighteen everywhere. I’m definitely relieved.”

“I just hope you’ll stay with me and not leave me now that you know that.”

“Us sleeping together was your idea, not mine. I would have waited however long for you. And, rest assured that there is no force on this planet that will make me want to leave you!”

“What if you got me pregnant?”

“Then I would marry you, it would be the honorable thing to do. I want to marry you anyway, but I cannot afford a decent ring on my low wages.”

I smile brightly at him then rest my head on his shoulder.

Suddenly my phone rings.

I look at the screen, then tell my boyfriend, “It’s my dad; I have to take this call.”

Quickly, I answer it, “Hi Daddy.”

“Well, princess you’re not home and it’s Christmas. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I know I’m not home. I’m with someone special.”

“Whom are you with? How long have you known him?”

“I had been seeing him since Thanksgiving.”

“I hope he treats you right.”

“He’s very good to me.”

“Do you think he could possibly love you?”

“Yes, he does indeed love me.”

“I hope he’s serious and doesn’t just break your heart. Otherwise, he’ll have to answer to me.”

“Okay, please give him a chance-I love him so much!”

“I want to meet him then.”

“We’re on our way over there now.”

“Tell him to be extra careful driving in the freezing rain.”

“Yes, I’ll tell him.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few.”

“Okay, bye Daddy.”

“Bye, princess.”

I hang up, then tell my boyfriend, “My dad says for you to drive safely in this freezing weather. He might be a little hard on you.”

“That’s all right. I’ll make it clear to him and your mom how much I love you and how I’m willing to take care of you.”

“Well whether my parents like you or not, there are only six weeks until I can make all of my own decisions.”

We come upon the exit to the road that leads to my subdivision, then he takes it. He drives through my neighborhood and finally pulls into my parents’ driveway.

He steps out of the car then opens the door for me.

We walk to the front entrance of the house and I ring the bell.

My dad answers not long after.

He shakes my boyfriend’s hand and says, “Hello young man. We’ve met before.”

I’m puzzled and ask, “Wait, Daddy, you know him?”

“Yes. He waited on me at The Downtown Grocer. He was very helpful and took care of me better than anyone else. Those bastards he works for punished him just because they thought he was talking with me too much instead of working.”

“I’m on thin ice because of that. I hate my job but I have to work somewhere and unfortunately, there aren’t too many somewheres in this economy.”

“I could easily get you a better job, but I have to know that you are committed to my daughter and her only. How did you meet her?”

I then interject and say, “I’ll answer that one, Daddy: Last Thanksgiving you and mom were fighting, so I left the house and went to the park. I saw him there, writing. I thought he was cute and his stories were beautiful, so I was attracted to him. He accepted me and he doesn’t mind my weight.”

My dad looks at my boyfriend sternly and says, “Yes, she has an underactive thyroid gland and the weight is not her fault. I tore me up seeing her rejected and mocked by all those boys and you better not break her heart. If you do, I know people who can tar and feather you.”

My boyfriend looks my dad directly in the eyes and says, “I know rejection too, Mister. I’ve been shot down many times, but your daughter she completely accepted me for who I am, despite all of my quirks and awkwardness and I love her for that, not to mention I think she is very beautiful and I would never dream of breaking her heart.”

“Good. I’m holding you to that statement. Now, why don’t both of you come in and have Christmas Dinner with us? We have Sushi, General Tso Chicken, Lo Mein Noodles, Hot Pork and Tapioca Pudding for dessert. I got Asian take out because I refuse to shop at The Downtown Grocer after seeing the way they treat their workers.”

My mom then walks out of the den, looks at my boyfriend and asks, “Who the hell are you?”

I tell her, “That’s my boyfriend mom, please don’t embarrass me.”

My dad then says, “Let’s all eat. It’s Christmas and it should be peaceful.”

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”


The Sad Conclusion-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

I sit in the living room with my parents.

They both seem to be in a better mood than usual.

Both of them are smiling and they are not arguing.

My boyfriend is now working with my dad as a writer and he seems a lot happier too.

He fixed up his house and bought a new vehicle.

Suddenly the doorbell rings.

I answer it and am glad to see my boyfriend at the door.

I’m always glad to see him and I give him a loving kiss.

“Baby, let’s go to the park. I have a surprise for you,” He tells me.

My dad looks at him with a wink and a smile. I wonder what they are planning.

We walk to his new truck and he helps me inside.

He then backs out and we head to the park.

I’m concerned that all this money will change him for the worse, so I plainly tell him, “I hope all this money and success won’t corrupt you.”

He looks at me lovingly and replies, “Well, to make sure it doesn’t I’ll need you by my side forever, to keep me in check.”

“A lot of girls and women are going to want you.”

“But I don’t want any of them; I just want you. You wanted me, even at my lowest, so now you’ll have me at my highest.” He pauses then continues, “You’re the only one who ever put up with my condition and no amount of money or success will make it go away.”

“And you’re the only one who loved me despite my weight, which is basically impossible to lose.”

“Baby, I love to put my arms around you and hold on to you. I think your weight makes you sexy.” He pauses, then says, “However, I want you to have the body you want and know that I am in love with your soul and I’ll want you no matter how thin or heavy you become.”

I now feel better and I tell him with passion, “Oh, I love you so much!”

“I love you too, baby!” He replies.

He continue driving to the park. There is a blissful silence between us as he holds my hand.

Finally, we arrive.

He helps me out of the truck and we begin to walk on the walking path.

“Let’s go to the bench I was sitting on when we first met,” He tells me.

I smile and nod.

We continue walking until we arrive at that very bench where I first saw him.

We sit on that bench and he holds me close to him.

I rest my head on his chest as he is pulling something out of his pocket and says, “This is for you.”

I smile and ask, “What is this?”

“It’s an engagement ring. Marry me, baby!” He replies, then continues, “I’ve been wanting to give you one of these for a long time, but could never afford one until now. Please, be my one and only, both now and forever!”

My eyes are filling with tears and I wildly kiss him as I reply, “Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you! I’m so fat, I cannot even drive, but you still want me. You’ve treated me better than in my wildest dreams and you’ve always shown me love and affection when every other guy I was interested in was so cruel to me.”

“You’ve just made me the happiest man on the planet!” He tells me with a kiss.

My boyfriend then stands on top of the bench and shouts at the top of his lungs, “I just proposed to the girl of my dreams and she said YES!”

Everyone in the park starts clapping and cheering with the exception of an angry looking woman with a bunch of kids.

Suddenly this angry looking woman begins yelling back, “Yeah. He’s retarded and she’s fat. He just quit his job and on disability now, so they’re going have a bunch of fat retarded children and all of you are going to have to pay taxes to support them.”

She must be the cook from his job who had previously threatened him.

He looks at her and replies, “Actually, I just got a job as a romantic novelist. That probably means nothing to you though.”

I wish he wouldn’t mouth off to her and would just ignore her.

“Shut your mouth, little boy!” The cook says angrily.

My boyfriend stands up to her even more and says, “I don’t have to and furthermore if you don’t leave us alone and go back to feeding all of your illegitimate children, I’m going to call the police.”

Now she pulls a gun from her purse.

She points it at my boyfriend and fires.

He’s hit and collapses to the ground.

She then tries to shoot me, but several bystanders wrestle the gun from her before she can.

I begin to cry profusely as I see my boyfriend on the ground.

Suddenly I feel extreme chest pains.

I grab my chest and collapse on top of my boyfriend as his eyes close.

Now I am coughing up blood and all goes black…

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

In the Country Part 2-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

As we enter the house, my boyfriend’s mom says, “Where’s the heating oil?”

“Right here,” He tells her and hands her the tank.

We walk to his old bedroom and he turns on the bedside lamp.

He puts a new bulb in that old rechargeable flashlight then plugs it in.

Then we sit on his bed and he unpacks the flashlight I bought for him.

He then installs the batteries and turns it on.

We are both amazed by the brightness.

“I really appreciate this gift you gave me,” He tells me as he puts it safely in his pants pocket.

“It’s the least I could do. You’ve bought me a gift,” I tell him as I point to my watch.

“But I still promise to pay you back.”

“I know you will and I am so looking forward to it!” I tell him with a sweet kiss.

His mom walks into the room and says, “So y’all have been screwing even though y’all aren’t married. How long has this been going on?”

“We don’t have to answer that,” My boyfriend says as he stands up to her.

So his mom gives an ultimatum, “Either answer me or find somewhere else to stay until the evacuation order is lifted.”

She then looks at me and continues, “How long have you been committing this serious sin?”

I break down and answer her, “Since this past Christmas Eve. I had fallen so much in love with him and I’m still in love with him, but we had just learned on the news that a world war was about to break out. I was so afraid that he would be drafted and killed in combat without us fully knowing each other. I just wanted to seal my love for him.”

My boyfriend looks at me and says, “You don’t have to explain to her or feel guilty about it.”

His mom looks angrilly at him then says, “Oh, shut your mouth. You’re going to have a lot to answer for because of the way you charmed this young girl. I don’t know where you learned to do such a thing.”

I feel the need to stand up for my boyfriend, then tell her, “He didn’t charm me at all. Yes, he does write those love stories and I find it very attractive, but I wanted him before I knew he wrote such beautiful things. I just thought he was so cute, so I started talking to him. At first, he was hesitant because of our age difference, but eventually, he fully accepted me. No one else wanted me because of my glandular problem but he loves me in spite of it, just like I love him in spite of his Autism.” I pause, then continue, “Any other time I tried to talk to someone of the opposite sex, they would make cow and pig noises, because of my weight. I’ve been dealing with that ever since I was eleven or twelve. When I told your son he was cute, I then asked him if he thought I was cute also or was I too fat and his response was that I was beautiful and not to let anyone else tell me otherwise. If he would have rejected me, I very well might have ended my life. He didn’t reject me though. In fact, he treats me better than I ever dared to dream. No one else was ever so kind to me, so I couldn’t help falling in love with him.”

My boyfriend then looks at his mom and says, “Remember how at one point I had written some stories and all the girls were impressed but their boyfriends were jealous, so they began to spread false rumors about me? I was just reminded of that today in the hardware store. It ruined my reputation hence another reason why I got out of this one horse town as soon as I was able. I’m immensely glad I moved to the city too because I met her and she brings so much joy to my life. All of the suffering I endured prior to meeting her was worth it.”

His mom then tells him, “You’re lucky those boys didn’t beat you up. Maybe they should have because then you would have learned not to write such sinful literature. All those stories do is cause their readers to have unrealistic expectations of their partners.”

I stand up for him once again and say, “He reads those stories to me all the time and I don’t have any unrealistic expectations of him, in fact, they usually make me want to love him more. My dad is going to help him get published hopefully soon and he will never have to work at his grocery job again. He is so miserable there, but he keeps the job so he can take care of me.”

His mom gets even angrier and says, sternly, “Work is supposed to be miserable to remind us that we are sinners in a fallen world. If you enjoy your work, chances or you’ll pay for it in the afterlife. Speaking of work, both of you will do chores while y’all are here to burn off all of that sinful energy. Y’all want to have the pleasures of a married couple, then y’all should have the responsibility of a married couple too.”

She looks at my boyfriend, then continues, “Go help your daddy in the fields.”

She looks at me, and says, “You will help me cook and clean.”

My boyfriend and I look at each other in distress.

His mom then says, “Go on, get to work.”

My boyfriend and I attempt to kiss each other, but his mom says, “Uh-uh, none of that.”

He sulks, then walks out the room, down the hall and out the back door.

His mom then brings me an apron and says, “Put this on and you will help me.”

Reluctantly, I put the apron on.

“I want you to sweep all the floors,” His mom says as she hands me a broom.

I never had to do this before, but for love of my boyfriend, I try my best.

I sweep each room with a hard floor, then throw the dust away.

After I am done, I sit down.

“Why are you sitting?” His mom asks angrilly.

“Because my body cannot take all this physical labor,” I plainly tell her.

“You wouldn’t have that kind of body if you grew up on a farm, all the hard work would burn off those calories.”

“Actually, I have a glandular problem. It’s not my fault.”

“God is probably punishing you for something wrong you did and judging by the speed you got into my son’s pants you’ve probably done a lot of wrong before you met him.”

“If you’re suggesting I sleep around, you’re gravely mistaken. Your son is the only one I’ve ever been intimate with and the only one I want to be intimate with. He is so kind to me, that I couldn’t help but fall in love with him and give myself to him.”

“Maybe I am wrong about you.”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Well, I apologize. I just want my son to have a good lady in his life.”

“Even though your son and I aren’t married, I’m still a lady, because I only want him and wouldn’t lay down with anyone else.”

“I have trouble trusting the city dwellers, because there is so much wickedness in the cities.”

“But our standard of living is so much higher.”

“You’re right. And that means life is easier and therefore you have more time to sin. We were meant to toil in the fields for our food and wages and if everyone lived that way, there would be no time for any sin.”

“It’s not my fault. I live in a subdivision. My dad is a business executive. I’ll admit there is a lot of sin and I can see that it is because of idle city life, but I didn’t ask to be born into this life, so it isn’t my fault.

“You’re still going to have a lot to answer for and that will affect your eternal destiny. I’d be willing to bet you’re not going to Heaven and you’re also causing my son’s spiritual life to suffer, so you will really have a lot to answer for.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?”

“Just realize that you are a sinner deserving to go to hell for eternity to pay for your sins, but a man named Jesus Christ paid that price for you. You must surrender your life to Him and follow Him daily and he will forgive all your sins, past, present and future.”

“I do realize that now. How do I surrender to Jesus Christ?”

“Talk to Him like you would talk to your best friend, invite Him into your heart to save your soul and rule your life.”

I go into my boyfriend’s old bedroom, kneel down by the bed and do what I was told.

As I pray, I feel as if all my sin and guilt has been lifted off of me, but I also feel an extremely compelling need to marry my boyfriend.

I walk out of the room.

“Has Jesus spoke to you?” His mom asks me.

“I believe He has. He keeps telling me that I need to marry your son.”

“Well, if Jesus is telling you that, I’d have to agree, but you better always treat my boy right.”

“Oh, I sure will. I don’t ever want to lose him.”

“Now, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll teach you how to cook.”

My boyfriend’s mom takes some chicken breasts out of the refrigerator and says, “I’ll teach you how to sear these.”

She seasons them then puts them in a pan periodically flipping them.

Then she slices some potatoes and puts them with spices milk and cheese in a caserole dish, then puts them in the oven.

Then she takes some fresh green beans and bacon and places them in a pot with oil spices and water and steams them.

I carefully observe as much as possible.

This is going to be a delicious dinner.

We check on the food and stir periodically until my boyfriend and his dad come walking in from the fields.

Now we are putting the food on the table.

As we sit down to eat, we get messages that the evacuation order is lifted.

Minutes later my boyfriend’s phone rings. He goes to the old bedroom to take the call.

He walks back into the dining room, to which his mom says, “Don’t people know not to call at dinner time?”

“That was my job calling. I have to be back there in twenty-four hours, so we have to leave as soon as we are finished eating. I have a five-hour drive ahead of me and I’ll also need to be rested up.”

“Translation you want to go back home and screw your girlfriend,” His mom says.

“Honey, for the last time, don’t be so hard on him. He’s very lucky to have her.” His dad interjects.

“And I am just as lucky to have him!” I speak up.

“Fine do whatever you want.” His mom says with irritation.

His dad sees us out and says, “She’ll eventually come around, especially if y’all get married which, I think, y’all need to strongly consider.”

That echoes what God has been telling me as well.

My boyfriend and I nod, then he opens the car door for me and I step in.

He then gets in on the driver side and we head back to the city.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

In the Country Part 1-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

My boyfriend and I wake up in his old bedroom at his parents’ house in the country.

We are very cold, so he steps out of bed to check the thermostat.

It is even colder with him out of the bed so I tell him, “Come back to bed and keep me warm.”

“I’m coming right now,” He replies.

We hold each other until the hunger pangs get the better of us.

Slowly we walk to the kitchen.

His mom is putting pancakes and bacon on the table.

The silence is awkward and tense as we eat.

At one point, my boyfriend says, “I think the furnace is broken.”

“No, it just needs more oil. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go to the hardware store and pick some up?” His mom tells him coldly.

He then looks at his watch and asks her, “Does it still open at eight in the morning?”


“Then we’re going right now. I have to get a new bulb for my flashlight anyway.”

“Charge the oil to your dad’s account,” His mom says in a cut and dry tone.

We get our coats then walk to my boyfriend’s old car.

He opens the passenger door for me, to which I step in, then he enters the driver’s side and we leave.

We drive into town and arrive at the hardware store just as it is opening.

There is a long line, so my boyfriend browses around.

Suddenly, my phone rings. The caller ID shows that it is my dad, so I go into a corner of the store and take the call.

“Hi Daddy.”

“Hello princess. I understand there was a terrorist attack. Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m fine. My boyfriend and I evacuated to his parents’ house in the country.”

“Good. I’m glad you found him and I’m glad you’re with him because he is a really good young man.”

“And he loves me. Well I love him too, you know.”

“Yes, I know and I’m so happy for you princess.”

“We would have gone to your house, but I knew mom would be on edge.”

“I know. It is also your eighteenth birthday, which your mother totally missed out on because of her addiction. I hope that could be a wake up call to her. I doubt you’re enjoying it, but I hope there was some goodness to your birthday.”

“Yes, before all this happened my boyfriend bought me dinner.”

“Well we are going to throw you a party at some point and I want him there too.”

“Okay, Daddy that will be good.”

“Where are you now.”

“I’m at a hardware store in the country. My boyfriend is picking up some oil for his parents’ heater.”

“Well keep in touch with me and call if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

“Now I have to go check on your mother, so let me go.”

“Okay Daddy.”

“Let me know when you’re back in the city.”

“All right.”

“Bye princess an Happy Birthday.”

“Bye Daddy and thank you.”

I hang up the phone and go browse around the store with my boyfriend.

Finally someone waits on us.

He and my boyfriend converse, “Long time no see. What can I get for you?”

“As many First Alert Ready-Lite bulbs as possible and some heating oil.”

“First Alert Ready-Lite, that’s something you don’t hear of anymore.”

“Well, it came with the house I bought in the city.”

“Wasn’t there a terrorist attack there last night?”

“There sure was. We were ordered to evacuate and here we are.”

“That’s a drag. I enjoyed living in the city when I played football at the university on scholarship, but then I was injured and my career was over. Now I work for my dad’s hardware company and try to be the best salesman I can be.”

“It’s a shame how something that happens in an instant can alter a person’s life.”

“Well, I guess it’s for the best. At least you can return to the city when the evacuation is lifted.”

“Yes but to a God-awful job.”

“Where do you work?”

“The Downtown Grocer.”

“Oh yes, I’ve seen their commercials on TV.”

“Don’t let the commercials fool you, they are dirty people. I hate working for them. I’d really like to be a writer.”

“You always did. Some of my teammates knew how their girlfriends were impressed by your writings and were very jealous, so they began to spread false rumors about you.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that. Can we not re-live it? You should have the oil, which I’ll be charging to my dad’s account. Do you have the bulbs or not? If you do, I’ll be paying cash.”

The clerk checks the computer, then says “I have five packs of bulbs left in stock.”

“I’ll take all five,” My boyfriend clearly says.

The clerk then suggests to my boyfriend, “Could I interest you in a Mini Maglite LED flashlight instead? It runs for five hours on 2 AAA batteries and gives off 111 lumens. Your Ready Lite’s battery only lasts about an hour and there might not be any electricity available at your house to charge it up again.”

“Man it sure sounds tempting, but I don’t have enough cash for both the First Alert bulbs and the Mini Maglite.”

“Charge it to your parents’ account.”

“They’d be livid if I did.”

I then tell my boyfriend, “I’ll pay for that flashlight with my grocery money.”

“Baby, you don’t have to do that.”

I put my finger on his lips and say, “But I want to, because I can tell you’d really it. You can pay me back for it the same way you plan to pay me back for the gas money-all night long! Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track!”

He blushes, then I kiss him lovingly.

“All right baby, you know my payment is good,” He tells me.

He looks at the clerk and says, “Charge the oil to my parents’ account. I’ll pay cash for the bulbs and…”

“I’ll pay for that flashlight with my debit card,” I interject.

“Thank you, baby!” He tells me. He then holds me by my waist and kisses my head.

After our items are paid for, we leave the store.

He opens the passenger door for me and I kiss him as I step in.

He then gets in on the driver side and is about to start the car when his phone rings.

“Hello,” “What do you mean?” “Who called exactly?” “No, people need to mind their own business, that’s one of the reasons why I got out of the godforsaken country and moved to the city.” “But it was a blessing to me!” “Because it was a strategic target.” “Whatever you say.” “All right I am coming.”

He then hangs up.

My boyfriend starts his car and begins to head to his parents’ house when I ask him, “What’s the matter?”

He then tells me, “Now I am not mad at you at all. However, when you are in a small town you need to watch what you say and do in public because everyone is always watching and they are all busybodies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Several people overheard us talking about the flashlight you bought me and how I plan to pay it back. They called my mom and now she is even more angry with us.”

“Oh, my God, what have I done?”

“Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It’s not your fault, you’ve probably never been to a small town, so you just didn’t know that the people would be watching much less how they’d react.”

“I feel terrible, but I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at all. In fact, your awesome combination of kindness and naughtiness turns me on so much that I plan to pay you back all night long and with interest compounded nightly included and tips.”

“I love you so much!”

“And I love you just as much! Now, what did your dad call you for?”

“He was just making sure we were all right because of the terrorist attack and that he’s glad I was with you instead of my mom.”

“That’s a relief. I know you’re eighteen now, but I still want to stay on his good side.”

“Just love me like you do now and I think he’ll have no problems with you.”

We are now pulling into the driveway and his mom is about to confront us.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

Meet His Parents-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

My boyfriend rings the doorbell and his greeted by his mom.

“Hi, son. It’s been a long time. I wish you’d call more often.”

“Well, I only have so many voice minutes.”

She then looks at me and says, “So this is your special lady. She sure is cute!”

I blush, then we walk in.

His mom continues, telling him, “Y’all must be tired from your trip. You can sleep in the living room and your girlfriend can have your bed.”

My boyfriend and I look at each other in distress.

He speaks up, “Momma, that’s not necessary. We’re both adults.”

“Both adults?” His mom asks, then looks at me and continues, “How old are you?”

“I just made eighteen at midnight. I was going to move in with him, then the terrorist attack happened,” I humbly say.

“Move in with him? Y’all aren’t married.” His mom then looks at him and says, “City life has corrupted you because we didn’t raise you to live in sin.”

He answers her, “I would marry her if I could only afford a ring. I might be able to soon if I could just get my foot in the door as a writer.”

Sternly, his mom replies, “You’re supposed to toil for your wages, not get paid to entertain people with your sinful fantasies.”

I don’t like seeing him put down like this, so I interject, “His stories aren’t sinful, they are beautiful. In fact, those stories he writes are one of the reasons why I fell in love with him.”

His mom’s face becomes totally grim and she speaks to him, “I’m very disappointed in you. You’re using the written word to charm this young girl into your pants. That’s a far fall from grace and I blame it on living in the city.”

His dad walks into the kitchen, half asleep.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

My boyfriend answers him, “Some terrorists derailed a freight train in my neighborhood and we were forced to evacuate, so here we are.”

His mom then sharply says, “Tell him the rest.”

“Momma is mad at me because my girlfriend and I were planning to live together and sleep in the same bed.”

His dad looks at his mom and says, “Honey, don’t be so hard on him. I never thought he would find anyone, because of his condition but now he has, so don’t ruin it for him.”

Now I am worried about him so I look at his parents and ask, “What condition? Is he all right?”

His dad looks at me, then says, “He’s fine, just mildly Autistic, but very high functioning.”

My boyfriend then looks at me and says, “I was afraid to tell you because I thought you would leave me if you found out.”

I embrace him, then say, “I would never leave you, especially for something like that. You love me for me, when everyone else I was ever interested in mocked and taunted me, so I won’t forget that. You also take very good care of me, even though you have to do without. Anyway, look how fat I am, who else would want me?”

“Rest assured, I want you no matter what. And don’t worry about your weight because I love the feeling of holding you close to me at night.”

I smile at him from ear to ear. Now I am blushing. I then hug him tightly.

“Watch it, son!” His mom sharply interjects.

“Honey, why do you have to be so hard on him?”

“I just don’t want him sinning that’s all.” She then walks to her liquor cabinet and pours a shot of whiskey.

“Isn’t it a sin to drink?” My boyfriend asks her.

“Don’t be a smart aleck. You’re making me sin because of all your questionable choices.”

His dad intervenes, saying, “Why don’t we all go to bed?”

“Oh, yeah so they can screw out of wedlock under our roof.”

“Honey, please don’t ruin this for him.”

His takes another shot of whiskey, then says, “Fine, do whatever you want. You’ll both have a lot to answer for on judgment day.”

My boyfriend’s dad shows us to our room, then says, “Hopefully, she’ll come around, just keep the lewdness to a minimum in her presence.”

We get under the covers and snuggle for the next few hours.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

Evacuation-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

“All right, let me just get a few things,” My boyfriend tells the policeman.

“Where could we go?” I ask my boyfriend, “I don’t want to be with my mom.”

“If you don’t want to go there, we can go to the country and visit my family.”

“Are you sure?”

“What other choice do we have?”


I then grab my purse, smartphone and charger. My boyfriend grabs his composition books, flash drives, rechargeable flashlight, phone and charger.

We step out the front door and my boyfriend locks it behind us. We then cut across his front yard and he locks the gate.

We get in the car and it thankfully fires right up.

We begin to travel and my boyfriend turns on the radio where he learns that this was indeed a terrorist attack.

Something called contraflow is being used on all the highways out of the city. We are stuck in traffic.

There are cops everywhere. I’m glad that I just made eighteen more than ever.

For forty-five minutes the traffic crawls. I rest my head on his shoulder and he kisses my forehead repeatedly.

Finally, we are moving.

“Once we get out of the city, I should get us some coffee and food. I need something to keep me awake.”

“Sure, do what you need to do.”

We are now out of the city and on the Interstate. Thank God, the traffic is now moving.

But now my boyfriend is taking an exit to a dark highway.

“Looks like we are safe now, but why are you getting off right here?”

“Because I don’t want to take the chance of someone wrecking or breaking down. If that happens, traffic will back up and the terrorists could possibly strike again,” He replies.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Look, I am trying my best. You must know that I am just trying to get us out of harm’s way.”

“I guess.” I am irritated with him right now, but I still love him with all my heart.

“Let’s not fight, if we do the terrorists have another victory.”

“Yes, thank God we weren’t away from each other when this happened.”

“You’re right! I would rather die with you than live and us be apart!”

“I love you so much!”

“And I love you too, baby!”

“How much longer from here?”

“About four hours.”

“That’s fine.”

“Yes, I just hope and pray my car won’t break down.”

“What’s your family like?”

“Let’s just say interesting.”

“I hope they will accept me but I’m afraid of what they will think of my mom’s pill habit.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll accept you. They always wanted me to find love and now I have because of you. They just might tease you about being from the city.”

“What about the pills? Would they judge me about that?”

“No, they won’t. My family has always taught me that no one is perfect and that we all have faults. Plus, you’re not the addict; your mom is.”

“What’s your hometown like?”

“Boring, flat and quiet. I guess that is a good thing at the moment. It’s not an important place, so the terrorists wouldn’t try to strike there.”

“So you think we’ll be safe there?”

“Yes, there is only a two-lane highway in and out of town and there are no waterways, railroads are airstrips. It’s nothing a terrorist would want to hit.”

“You should call your parents first, to let them know you are coming.”

“You’re right. I was going to, but you know I should conserve my minutes, especially for my job.”

“I don’t think you will be returning to work for a while and, to me, that’s a very good thing. Besides, you can use my phone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I love you and would do anything for you.”

“Oh, I love you too baby! Thank you so much.”

I turn on my phone, then he calls out the ten digits.

I turn the speaker on and we hear the ringing.

“Hello.” His mother answers, half asleep.

“Hey, momma it’s me. There has been a terrorist attack in my city and I am headed your way. Put the news on, you’ll hear all about it.” I reply.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I am fine, but I have someone special with me.”

“Whom do you have?”

“My girlfriend. I will explain everything when we arrive.”

“Okay, be careful.”

“I sure will.”

“How much longer until you’ll be here?”

“If everything goes right, about four to five hours. As soon as we find a truck stop, I will get some, food and coffee to keep me awake.”

“Okay, you drive safe and I will see you then. I can’t wait to meet this lovely young lady.”

Suddenly the signal fades out.

“Momma, can you hear me?” “Durn it.”

“Your mom seems nice.”

“Oh, she is very nice. I wish I could see her more.”

“It’s a good thing she is not like my mom.”

“The worst she does is take a shot of whiskey every now and then. It’s only to help her sleep.”

My boyfriend continues to drive. It is cold and dark. I snuggle next to him and we keep warm.

There’s a truck stop on our left. My boyfriend turns off the road and pulls up to a pump.

We then go inside to pay the cashier.

I pull out my debit card and say, “Let me pay. My dad deposited grocery money in my account, but I think we need gas more than groceries right now.”

“Thank you so much, baby! I wish I could repay you!”

I tell him, “It’s the least I can do. By the way, when we get back home, you can repay me all night long!” Then, I tell the cashier, “Forty Dollars on pump five.”

Blushing, she says, “Y’all are so cute.” She then runs my card.

We go out to pump the gas, then come back after we’re done.

My boyfriend asks the cashier, “Is your restaurant open?”

“Well, we were going to close, but could sure use the business.” She pauses then calls the waitress. “There are some customers, don’t shut down just yet.”

We walk into the diner and the waitress greets us.

“What’ll it be?” She asks.

My boyfriend looks at me and says, “Tell her.”

“I would like some strawberry pancakes if that’s all right.”

“Sure. And for you?” She asks my boyfriend.

“Whatever sandwich you can make. And coffee-lot’s of it,” He replies.

“Where are y’all from?”

“The city south-east of here. There was a terrorist attack and we are refugees,”

“A terrorist attack?” She asks.

“Yes. Turn your TV on. You’ll learn all about it,” My boyfriend tells her.

“Can’t. Cable’s out.” She replies.

“Well, these extremist bastards, excuse my language, purposely derailed a train right where the transmission lines cross the tracks. That caused a chemical release and the power in most of the city is out.”

“Good Lord, that’s awful.”

“Yes. And it’s her eighteenth birthday.” He tells the waitress.

The waitress looks at me and says, “Well since it is your birthday, y’all both eat free. Y’all have seen enough hell for tonight and it’s the least we can do.”

“Thank you so much; I surely appreciate that.” My boyfriend tells her.

“Yes, y’all are both welcome. Just tell any travelers about this place when you can.”

“I just hope and pray that you’ll get more refugee customers coming from the city, but most are probably on the Interstate. I took a back road so we wouldn’t be caught in all that traffic.”

We happily eat and converse with the waitress and then we get coffee to go.

“Here’s a thermal mug with our company name on it. Tell everyone you can about us.” The waitress says.

“I sure will,” My boyfriend says.

“Come back if you’re ever passing through again and we’ll take care of y’all.”

We leave the truck stop and get back on the highway. I fall asleep on his shoulder.

I wake up as he pulls into his parents’ driveway. We step out of the car and my boyfriend rings the doorbell.

His mom greets us.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

Her 18th Birthday-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

It’s so cold tonight, but at least it is dry. That’s all right because I will soon be in the arms of someone who can keep me warm. Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday and I will be moving in with the one I am so deeply in love with. He’ll be getting off of work soon, so I’ll wait for him on my parents’ driveway. Minutes seem like hours, but finally here comes that old Toyota. I shiver as the headlights shine on me. He parks the car, then steps out and we embrace.

“Let’s get you warm,” He tells me.

“Good idea!” I reply as my teeth chatter.

With that, he opens the passenger door for me and I step in. He then enters on the driver’s side.

Quietly we ride out of the suburbs.

There is a peaceful silence, but then he tells me, “I know what tomorrow is!”

“Yes, I’ll be free! My parents’ll no longer have power over me!” I say with glee.

“Now you know your dad is good to us,” He tells me truthfully.

I then reply, “Yes, he is. But my mom is a lunatic. No longer will I hear her raging about her stupid pills again.”

“Do they know that we’ve been intimate?” He soberly asks.

“No, they don’t-and that is a good thing. It won’t even matter after the stroke of midnight.” I wish he didn’t have to worry about consequences for only loving me. This is the main reason why I am so happy to be able to live with him now.

“That’s a relief. I know your dad likes me, but how he would react if he knew?”

“Well, I can make him feel guilty about not being around if he indeed got angry.”

We are now going through the city and turning into his run-down neighborhood. I don’t mind living here because it means I get to live with someone who loves me for me and loves me tremendously.

Now we are in front of his house. He parks the car against the curb, then opens the door for me. I step out and we enter through his gate. He escorts me across his front yard. The neighbors are rolling and smoking joints. We both hate the smell of that smoke, so hurriedly we go inside, not wanting the neighbors to make trouble with us. Because we don’t trust these neighbors, my boyfriend installed several extra locks on his doors and he also bought me some Mace, for when I am home alone. My God, I hope I never have to use it.

We sit on the sofa and my boyfriend turns the news on. The reporter tells of the whole country is on high alert for a terrorist attack. My boyfriend is genuinely afraid of being drafted and it shows by the way I see him shudder.

So I tell him, “Let’s turn this miserable thing off and think about us!”

“Very well.” He says, switches off the TV, then continues, “Would you like to eat something?”


“I will order something for delivery. What do you feel like?”

“Something Asian, I guess.”


He begins looking through the phone book, so I pull out my smartphone and say, “Wait, I have an app for ordering it on here.”

I place the order then we sit on the sofa and wait. I rest my head on his chest. Oh, how I feel so blissful in that position.

Soon enough, there is a knock at the door. It’s the delivery man. My boyfriend pays him, then escorts him to his car.

When he comes back in, we take the food to the dining room and eat. We both shiver, so my boyfriend turns his heater on.

He sweetly smiles at me as he watches me eat. I feel like such a pig, but he loves me, even though I am so fat. Where has he been all my life?

Soon we are full and I am sleepy.

So, I tell him, “Asian food makes me sleepy. Let’s snuggle together!”

“Right behind you, baby!” He replies.

We both go to his bed and wrap up in the blankets together. I feel so content. What could ruin this wonderful moment?

Peacefully we fall asleep in each others’ arms.

Suddenly we are woken up by a train whistle.

I look at the clock on my smartphone. It’s 12:01 AM.

“I am eighteen now!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms and legs around him.

Suddenly we hear these awful grinding and squealing noises then some loud explosions.

Now everything is eerily quiet.

My boyfriend tries turning on his bedside lamp, but it doesn’t come on. The power must be out.

I light up the room with my smartphone.

“Let me go to the kitchen. I have a rechargeable flashlight there plugged in between the refrigerator and the stove,” My boyfriend says.

“Go get it, but after let’s keep snuggling.”

“Of course. You know I don’t want to be anywhere but in your arms.” He tells me, retrieves his light then climbs back into bed.

I rub his chest and say, “We can stay together now because I am legal!”

Both of our phones then receive alerts about a civil emergency.

A few minutes later there is a knock on the door. My boyfriend answers it.

A policeman greets him and sternly says “You must leave immediately! There has been a train derailment which resulted in a chemical release.”

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”