I just got back from my local grocery store and formulated this hypothesis that “Women (Housewives) in grocery stores are Psychic”.
First a bit of background.
Most housewives hate me.
This began in the early 90s when I lived in a cul-de-sac of duplexes and I made 100% of my living from taking nudes for the (then) online giant CompuServe (later it was Adult sites on the ‘Web’). Nudes of young women, three to four a month, sometimes even more. Meanwhile, I’d have a TV in my garage and be brewing beer while watching sports. I only had to work 20 hours a week to generate an income of about 3k a month (or much, much more). Being non-gay and single, this was perfect.
Of course, the men in the neighborhood gravitated to my garage like small rocks to a huge planetary body.
Their wives hated me, as I was a bad influence. So we’d stay up and bull shit and drink until the early hours of the morning. *I* didn’t have to get up to go to work. I had lots of young women hanging around, those young women often got nude for the camera.
I was a threat to their world of Husband Control.
So word got around on the housewife circuit – “Hate DAVE”. It’s not openly spoken, it’s a cosmic vibration that went out and was picked up by most housewives on a subconscious level.
“Dave is a threat to us. Annoy him as much as possible.”
Many even attempted to hook me up with their single friends or relatives. In the attempt to turn me into a husband and regain control of the men around them. Yes, housewives seek control not only of their own husbands, but of all men in their circle of reality.
Ha! I like being single. It means I can buy a 42” plasma TV when the money is in my bank, and not send the whole matter to committee, at which it’s tabled for discussion in favor of new furniture. The husband must give up any idea he's in actual control of the house he bought, because everything is controlled by the wife.
Even though I am no longer shooting young women nude, the bigotry continues even today.
So this is how I know a housewife is psychic.
I am in a grocery store, a psychic housewife would somehow know what I am looking for on any given grocery aisle, and align her basket so as to block my access to the item I want. Not to get an item them-selves, as most often they stop simply to hunt for their list, look for a coupon or arrange the contents of their purse in alphabetical order.
This happens often enough on most trips to the grocery store that I cannot conclude this is pure chance.