Was Monday morning, a quarter to four,
I lay in bed fidgeting, couldn't sleep any more,
I said what the heck, I might as well see,
What's going on, down at A & P.
Pulled on my slippers, as walked out the door,
Yelled back to my wife, I'll be down at the store,
I always had thought, a woman of class,
Now why would she call me, an ignorant asp?
I got in my Chevy, drove off in the dark,
Down to the grocery store, where Chevy did park,
The lot was near empty, not a soul was in sight,
As I entered front door, beneath neon light.
In glow of store's sign, I saw my legs bare,
Where were my pants? Back home on the chair,
Oh, what the heck, I needn't go after,
When off to the right, I heard clerk's shrill laughter.
Please, give me a break, you've seen legs before,
I said to the clerk, at front of the store,
She answered right back, in shameless delight,
But never I've seen, legs so hairless and white.
I walked off in a huff, pushing my cart,
Back to the bakery, that's where I'd start,
A chocolate eclair, with creamy sweet filling,
Then thoughts of my dentist, the teeth he'd be filling.
Off to the produce, I'd find a ripe apple,
When off in the distance, beside the grape Snapple,
I spied a strange man, a raincoat he wore,
And when he saw me, he ranted and swore.
He started towards me, his raincoat not closed,
Oh my dear God, his thing was exposed,
He yelled as he neared, get out of my store,
There's room for one flasher, not one pervert more.
I turned tail and ran, lickety-split down aisle three,
My snow white legs churning, as fast as could be,
Out the front door, by still laughing clerk,
On past the paperboy, on way to day's work.
Roared down the street, til safely in bed,
When pulled up the covers, my wife turned and said,
If you were dear husband, you'd go get for me,
A fresh chocolate doughnut, down at A & P.
Saturday Night at the A & P
It's three a.m. on a Saturday night,
Just a couple of hours, til dawn's first light,
I feel her warm body, close next to mine,
Caress her lithe body, taste lips of wine.
Give me my pillow, you lechorous fool,
What's that on your mouth? It looks like some drool,
I really do think, that soon you'll be die'in,
If you don't stop muttering, I love you Meg Ryan.
Get your butt out of bed, get to the store,
Let's see you tail end, head right out the door,
And bring back some milk, so when kid's awake,
Of Fruit Loops and Wheaties, they can partake.
I get in the car, and head down the street,
I'm still half asleep, and in stocking feet,
I get to the store, head down the first aisle,
Wishing was home, in my warm domicile.
Then by the produce, I happen to spy,
A beautiful goddess, thought I would cry,
O' what a vision, a Helen of Troy,
O' my dear God! I think it's a boy!
Scurrying past, I walk by the bread,
There's an old wino, I hope he's not dead,
Then by the pastries, chocolate delights,
Mother of Mary, two hermaphrodites.
Running by now, smack into a cart,
Pushed by young boy, Cowabunga, it's Bart,
I land on his twinkies, let out a scream,
For there goes Herb Alpert, buying whipped cream.
I get to my feet, take off in a run,
Whiz right by Elvis, seranading a nun,
Price check on three, I hear from above,
As dead ahead, there stands Courtney Love.
Then at the milk, grab a gallon or two,
I really do need, to get out of this zoo,
Head for the checkout, and then out the door,
Once in the car, gas pedal I floor.
I get to the house, the milk's put away,
I head back to bed, and what can I say,
I snuggle up cozy, then in my head,
Sweet dreams of Meg Ryan, all snug in my bed.
[This message has been edited by Mike (edited 05-31-2000).]