9.a.m. at the store today. Stopped in some backwoods town for some yum yum, went inside and started shopping. The lines at the registers were long and full of pensioners at this time, but I noticed one of those self-checkouts which appeared to be miraculusly vacant in a otherwise packed supermarket. So I rush toward it and right before I could put my groceries on the basket stand a woman in her early 40s carrying tampons blocks my path. I stop short of bumping into her and look her in the eyes, trying to diffuse the embarassing situation with a warm and polite smile, but she never returns that smile, not even a nod, or a blink of reciprocity, just a half-shocked stare, the kind of look volvo dirving soccer moms give to freaks and weirdos.
She proceeds to slowly checkout her groceries, I could see her white hip huggers popping out her black spandex pants "Jesus fucking christ, I have no chance" I thought to myself once I saw her husband, not a Chad by any stretch, but a mans man, a manly man. The thing with Karen is that even when she settles -- ethnic, skinny, or feminine men will never be an option to her. It's white guys with dad bods and flat-tops, never a unmanly man. A crucial lesson to be learned here. Karen might date a numale, but she will never date twink.
She proceeds to slowly checkout her groceries, I could see her white hip huggers popping out her black spandex pants "Jesus fucking christ, I have no chance" I thought to myself once I saw her husband, not a Chad by any stretch, but a mans man, a manly man. The thing with Karen is that even when she settles -- ethnic, skinny, or feminine men will never be an option to her. It's white guys with dad bods and flat-tops, never a unmanly man. A crucial lesson to be learned here. Karen might date a numale, but she will never date twink.
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