Love and Lists (Chocoholics)

My grandfather George is pretty bad-ass. For the first few years of my life we lived with him, and I have some of the best memories ever from that time. He always let me watch whatever I wanted on TV, and I could swear as long as I never told my mom. My grandfather is the king of stringing together long, completely inappropriate words that hardly ever make sense but sound good coming out of his mouth when he’s pissed off. He used to let me practice my run-on sentence curses until one day I said “Shit-poop-hell-freak-monkey” and I was banned from cursing. He shook his head at me sadly and told me he was disappointed in my lack of effort.

 

I haven’t seen Pops in a few weeks, and since the entire freaking family is now aware of my love for Charlotte, I’m assuming he is too since my mom can’t keep her mouth shut. Hopefully he’ll be able to give me some good advice. He’s been married twice; he’s got to have something useful for me.

 

I walk into my parents’ house without knocking and see my grandfather sitting on the couch watching the Game Show Network. What is it with old people watching game shows? When I’m old, please don’t let me ever fall asleep in my recliner watching reruns of Family Feud.

 

“It’s about time you got here. There’s too much estrogen in this house,” Pops complains as he lowers the volume on the TV.

 

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

 

“Sue’s in the kitchen with your mother and Sophie.”

 

“Dad’s here, isn’t he?”

 

“Like I said, too much estrogen,” Pops deadpans.

 

Flopping down on the couch next to him, I let out a great big sigh.

 

When Pops doesn’t say anything, I sigh again, hoping he’ll get the hint.

 

“Just spit it out, kid. You know I don’t do the whole touchy-feely thing, so don’t expect me to ask you what’s wrong.”

 

I should be used to his crass bedside manner by now, but I’m not. Being subtle isn’t one of his strong suits.

 

“So, there’s this girl I’m in love with—”

 

“Yeah, Charlotte, I heard,” he interrupts. “She’s not out of your league, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

Well thanks a lot. I wasn’t thinking that at all until now.

 

“She doesn’t know that I’m in love with her. We’ve known each other since birth, and it’s a little hard to just come right out and tell her at this point,” I explain.

 

“Stop being a * and just tell her,” Pops replies.

 

“But what if she doesn’t love me back?”

 

Pops shrugs and turns back to the TV. “Then grow a pair and get over it. Jesus mother of fuck Christ in a piss shithole, dick for brains, the answer is bathtub.”

 

Well, this little talk sure helped to boost my confidence. As I get up from the couch to go in the kitchen and check on dinner, Pops grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to him.

 

“Sometimes I get a little nervous too. Here,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a bottle of pills. “Take one of these vitamins. They’re good for brain stimulation and all that shit. Maybe they’ll help you strap on a set and use that brain of yours to figure out a way to come clean with Charlotte.”

 

Pops opens the lid and dumps two of the pills in my hand and then hands me his glass of water on the coffee table in front of him. Downing the pills in one swallow, I figure if they don’t help stimulate my brain into coming up with a better idea for showing Charlotte I’m in love with her, maybe they’ll calm my nerves about the ribbon cutting ceremony later tonight, or give me strong bones at the very least.

 

 

 

 

 

Something isn’t right. Something isn’t right at all. I want to have sex. I always want to have sex, but right now I want to have sex with the giant pair of scissors I’m currently holding in my hand and that wouldn’t be good at all. Sex and scissors should never mix.

 

I could totally fit my penis into the finger holes, though.

 

I’m also contemplating having sex with the drainpipe attached to the building to my left. And maybe even sticking it to the Rhododendron bush to my right. I wonder if anyone would notice if I got down on my stomach and just started rubbing myself against the curb? Is it still illegal to have sex with trees in Ohio? I need to stick my penis in something right the fuck now.

 

I glance out at the crowd of people gathered in the parking lot of Minney’s Adult Mart and wipe the sweat from my brow. Seduction and Snacks is the only distributor for Minney’s, so this ribbon cutting ceremony is a pretty big deal. I don’t have time for whatever is going on with me right now. I feel like I’m fifteen again and a gust of wind can get me hard.

 

“Dude, what’s wrong with you. You look like you want to kill someone. Or rape the pair of scissors you’re holding. Are you feeling okay?”

 

I glance at Tyler standing next to me and notice he’s wearing corduroys. Those would feel really good right now if I rubbed my penis against them. All soft and rough at the same time. Like a ribbed condom, but better.

 

“Why are you looking at my legs like that? Stop it,” Tyler scolds.

 

Shaking the dark thoughts from my head, I quickly turn away from him and try to think of something other than sex.

 

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. I was fine at my parents’ house but started feeling funny on the way over.”

 

That woman has really pretty knees. I’ve never had sex with knees before.

 

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