In case you haven’t heard me say it, I live in a very small community…far from the bright lights of a city. I’m talking about down-home-country where everyone drives
a pickup with a bird dog or two in-the-back. The kind-of-country where you have only-one of most-everything like: one service station, one McDonald’s, one Walmart, and one liquor store. Okay---you get the picture.
Every day---I provide bird food and sunflower seeds for all my-many birds, squirrels, and chipmunks. Feeding my large menagerie is a real treat since they’ve become so tame…they
basically ignore me.
Early last summer, I also began serving dinner—every night--- to possums, raccoons, stray cats and dogs, even a few wolves. Most fascinating of all
are the three white-tailed Deer who also join me for dinner about 8pm, night after night.
It was Sunday afternoon, shortly after 4:30pm, when I discovered I was “out”
of deer corn. Recognizing that my Deer-Friends are always hungry and manage to eat every available kernel of corn...I had no choice but make a quick-trip to Walmart.
Pushing my basket toward the sports department, I moved at a fast pace. It’s always important for me to get home before darkness surrounds me. Thankfully, there were very few people in the store that Sunday evening so I didn’t
have to waste time “dancing” around slow-moving people and multiple carts.
When a guy going in the opposite direction zoomed past me with an almost-empty basket…I
only noticed him because he smiled. I smiled back, thinking he might be someone in the village I’d met some time, somewhere. I probably thought about our brief exchange for--at most--ten seconds. By the time I reached the back of the store,
I was focused on the few bags of Deer Corn still on the shelf.
Pulling my cart close so I could maneuver the thirty pounds of Deer Corn off-the-shelf and–into-my-cart smoothly
and quickly, I was just placing both hands on the heavy bag when suddenly I heard: “Wait, I’ll help you with that bag but first….I need you to help me.”
turned and was immediately face to face with the guy who--a few minutes earlier--had smiled at me. He’d pushed his cart parallel to mine and was standing less than five feet away. What got my attention were his hands. Both of his hands were busy: One
hand was holding his zipper open while the other hand was stroking his penis with speed and determination.
I grabbed the cart handle and started running toward several people I could
see in the distance while…at the same time…I was screaming: “HELP ME! HELP ME! A SEX MANIAC IS EXPOSING HIMSELF!
I screamed as I ran and----I never
looked back. It took only seconds for me to connect with the manager and sales people, all-running in my direction. Almost-instantly, the sex addict abandoned his cart and quickly disappeared. At the request of the store’s manager and security team,
I stayed in the store long enough to speak with the Sheriff once he arrived. I described my brief encounter with the sexually-charged pervert to the best of my ability but...with only “a smile and an erection” as evidence… law enforcement
was at a real loss.
I’m still living in the country and Walmart continues to be my “one-stop” shopping place for basics like: groceries, paint brushes, underwear,
toothpaste, pet supplies and deer corn, but absolutely-never….for sex.