The reason I had a headache today

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Customer #1: What kind of pastries do you have?
me: raspberry and chocolate.
Customer #1: I will have the maple.
me: raspberry and chocolate?
Customer#1: I said maple!
me: and did I say maple was an option!
Customer #2: I will have a Green Tea.
Me: is that Black cream or sugar?
Customer#2: I didnt want Green! I wanted Orange Pekoe!
Customer 3: I will have the orange explosion.
Me: is that the cranberry muffin or the fruit fiber?
Customer 3: I dont know she just wrote here an orange explosion drink.
me: oh my god! its an orange pop. Just say an orange pop.
Customer 3: but I would like an orange explosion drink…
me: that doesnt exist. just say orange pop!
Customer 4: maybe you should put up a sign saying your drive thru is closed.
oh for fuck sakes there was a huge ass crane blocking half the parking lot. If you couldnt see it when you started to drive in you need to stop driving, buddy!
Customer 5: Do you have snack wraps?
me: ok would you like BBQ or Ranch
Customer 5: I asked you if you had snack wraps. so answer my question!
me: I did. That was why I was asking you what kind you would like! Ranch. Or BBQ
Customer 5: I would like a Ranch snack wrap.

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Yesterday I was being so polite and kind.  I dont know why I try to disprove my theory that the nicer I am the cattier other women are, but it always proves to be true. Oh they were bitchy! Today I walked in and no fucks were given!

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Come at me, and I will cut you! Cut you!

I was ice cold! Ice cold!

Guess what!

A guy even apologized for snapping at me!

I cant win!



A video I watched while at work.

Watching the women’s experience reminded  me of my experience with an energy worker, and how emotional it was for me.

The first time I went to an energy healer I was kind of hesitant. Her whole family worked in spiritualism. I had my shields up. There was no way this was going to work I thought.  The woman looked at me she smiled as if to reassure me. “You have to be the saddest person I ever met,” she said.

Why did every psychic or medium whoever met me say that? I was not too happy with that. I was happy that day.

She told me to get on the table. She put one hand on my back, the other hand reaching for the sky. I closed my eyes.

it was amazing. Energy started to flow through me. I never wanted to leave. It was if everything inside me, the pain, emotions, tension whatever was there was dissipating. My whole body felt like it had left the table, and I wasnt there anymore. I was filled with such a sense of peace and happiness. No pain. Emotional or physical.

After what seemed like hours she got up, removed her hands and told me to open my eyes.

“I hope you feel better now.” she murmured.

She hugged me after.

The second time I went to an energy worker/ psychic. She was spot on. After my reading she asked me if it was ok she cleansed my aura and heal me.


She stood behind me while I was seated, her hands hovering. Oh my goodness. It was wonderful!



You sigh against my mouth as I thumb your nipple lazily.  You feel so good against me, yet while I am enjoying your body, the sensations coursing through me I cant help but feel trepidation. The thought of being discovered fills me with fear and excitement. My heart is racing.

“Price check in aisle 4” a voice boom breaking our sensual reverie. I pull away from you.

“Look, I don’t know you” I begin. I bite my lip. “Maybe we should stop. Someone could see us.”

You grip my chin forcing me to look at you. Your eyes are heavy lidded with desire. Hunger. Your cheeks are flush with excitement. “You don’t need to know my fucking name! I don’t want a commitment.You just have to get between my legs and eat my pussy!”

Your words stun me, and lust surges through me. I never give up my control for anyone, and you are no exception. However, I feel a strange restlessness need to obey you.

I try to reason with you again. “Perhaps we can go somewhere more private. The restroom.”

You make a face. “A restroom? are you serious?” you gag.

Thinking about it now, I realize how ridiculous and nasty that suggestion was. “Ok then about our vehicles?”

You huff impatiently. “You need to be quiet. I see your mouth moving, but I don’t see it where its supposed to be. Between my thighs!”

Oh shit, you really are beginning to test my patience with your orders, I stamp down my anger. Yet your words are so provocative. I can feel my pussy juice dripping. Soaking my panties making it uncomfortable.

I kiss you again. This time I take my time. Your lips part, sighing. I slide my tongue over yours. The kiss deepens. Turns hungry.

You make a sound when I tear at the bodice of your romper, ripping it down the front. You stagger backward against the fruit display. Your hands flail wildly, grabbing onto the stand behind you. I am startled by how easy the fabric gives and I chuckle.

Thrust upwards in your awkward position, you poise seductively. Your breasts are high on your chest, nipples pink and hard.

“Hey! Not so rough!” you warn me. “this was a $200 designer romper!”

My eyebrow rises in disbelief. Then a slow smile curves on my lips. “Maybe I should have told you. I dont like being told what to do unless I am naked. Even then I make a horrible submissive.” I finger comb your hair then twist my fingers into the strands.

You gasp at the sudden pain. “What the fuck are you doing?” you hiss.

I tap your mouth closed with a finger of my other hand. “You look so beautiful. Don’t ruin the moment by speaking.”

Your breath hitches against my finger and I drag it over your lips down your throat. my fingers encircle your throat as if they were a necklace. “If you move at all. I will be very upset.” I squeeze gently “Do not move.”

You moan. I release your hair, my fingers stroking down the length of your body. I rip the rest of your flimsy romper of you. The material floats to your feet.

My eyes meets your. As if you sense my unspoken command, you kick off the remains. You are wearing no underwear. You are totally nude. At my whim.

I can feel you shiver. Is it out of anticipation? Fear? Hunger?

“What did you expect to happen?” I murmur, “Did you think this would go your way?”

You made a sound. I chuckle. “You went up to a complete stranger! And begged them to eat your pussy!” I cup your breast. “You were pretty gutsy. You should know. I always get my way.” I purr as I lower my head.

My breath whispers over your skin, teasing you. My tongue snakes out. Slowly ever so slowly I swirl the tip of your nipple with my tongue. You moan. My teeth follow in my tongue’s wake. Raking against the sensitive flesh. You gasp. I bite down.

“Oh fuck!” You cry.

I chuckle. I turn my attention to your other breast with my tongue and teeth, alternating rolling and pinching your nipples leaving you trembling and crying for more.

I straighten. I am little disappointed no one came to investigate your cries. We were still alone in the produce section. “Get on the stand,” I order you.

You glance over your shoulder, hesitant how to accomplish my order. There were apples and bananas. Blueberries in the next stand.

“This isnt hard.” I am brusque. “Get up there.”

You bite your lip, the turmoil on your face makes me smile. “Don’t bother to have second thoughts,” I tell you. “You wanted me to eat your fucking pussy! Now get up there!”

The harshness in my tone motivates you into climbing up onto the stand. Your slender golden body reclines on the apples, your blonde hair fanning underneath your head. “You look beautiful” I muse.

You smile. “Do I?”

I nod.

I run my hands up down your thighs. You part them willingly. Your hands sliding down to spread your pussy lips apart. Your pussy juice drips down onto the apples.

I lower my head. I pressed a kiss to the inner side of your thigh, dragging my mouth up to brush my lips over your slit.

You moan. Your fingers ease away as I slide my tongue deep. You taste wonderful, as I lick up your juice.

I lift up my eyes to meet your gaze. Your cupping your breasts, kneading them. Your lips are parted, as you moan how much you want me to eat you.

“yes just like that.” you whimper. “oh my god. don’t stop! Ok!”

I am teasing your asshole with lazy slow swirls of my tongue, going back to dip into your pussy hole. I flick the opening with my tongue making you squirm.

Your fingers dive into my hair, trying to direct me to your clit. I smack them away. “I will stop!” I tell you.

“Please!” You wail. “I am so close! I am about to cum! Why are you teasing me!”

I don’t answer instead glue my mouth to your pussy hole and tongue fuck you. Your body locks in mid-air as tiny convulses roll through you. Your moans turn into a scream that echoes in the supermarket.

“Well, you were too easy!” I smack my lips as I lap up all the juice spraying into my mouth. I didn’t give you time to recover before I was sliding my fingers inside you.

Your pussy muscles are clenching from your orgasm, so tight. My fingers are deep, I rise up between your thighs. My fingers in your hair and I kiss you. You whimper as my fingers jack in and out of your pussy. Hard and fast.

“Like this?” I pant. “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a slut!”

“Fuck you, bitch!” you wail. “Oh my god! get on your knees and eat my pussy!” you shove yourself at me, knocking me to the floor.

Dazed, I am sprawled out on the floor. I watch as you climb over me, your expression of victory. I sigh. When were you going to learn?

I let you sit on my face, but didn’t move. You glance down at me. “What are you doing?” you panted. “I said eat me!”

I hook my arms over your thighs and sat up, hauling you up so your shoulders are on the floor, and your legs are over my shoulders. “I told you I make a really bad submissive! Nobody tells me what to do.” I remarked.

With you so precariously positioned you plead with me to eat you. “Please make me cum again!”

I bury my face in your pussy. my tongue slips into your slit. dipping back and forth, flicking across your clit. You gasp. Each teasing stroke of my tongue across your clit makes your body jolt like electricity is being sent through. Fresh squirts of juice are being spraying into my mouth.

I begin to suck on your clit. Hard.

“Yes! Yes!” you shout. your heels dig into my back as your pussy grinds my face.

I am plunging two fingers deep inside your hole, pumping them hard. You are sobbing as orgasms make your body shake hard. I release your still shaking body, smiling as you curl into a ball.

I slowly become aware that we were no longer alone in the produce department. A couple stood watching, their jaws slack.

“Why can’t you make me shake like that!” the woman demanded. The man turned an embarrassing red.

“For godsakes Amber!” the man shushed her.

“Don’t you shush me, Richard! I haven’t had an orgasm in the 10 years we have been married!” the woman cried. She scurried forward. “He tries but doesn’t do the job right,” she whispers.

I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. Bewilder with the awkward situation I was in I couldn’t say anything. You are still in a sexual stupor, lying in a pool of your cum.

“Perhaps you can come by and you can help me out.” Amber suggests.






Listening to Sleeping with Sirens. Kellin Quinn’s voice is the perfect inspiration for beginning Tap Me Part Deux!♥♥♥

Fingers crossed the words flow




“Is it normal for you to be massaging my boobs?”

“I can stop if you want”

“I didn’t say that”

Oh my, Mazikeen can give me a massage any time


It took all I had to keep my eyes open this morning! It was my fault for going to bed late. I was watching the Princess Agents and was reading up on the Weinstein case. So disturbing it really made my blood boil! other women shaming the victims that came forward! Because somehow support is such a foreign concept among our gender we also have to make it harder for others to step forward 😡 Especially when there is a possibility that the dowdier a woman is the safer she is. (I find this notion to be true. Beauty is the eye of the beholder. For example I am not beautiful in some people’s eyes and in another I am gorgeous! So I’m harassed on some occasions) and to other women who are beautiful it is astonishing that men would find me attractive or give me attention over them. (It is astonishing to me too) I believe that is why women persecute other women. “What were you wearing? What did you say? Did you drink?”

It’s disgusting. And it makes me so sad.

When I woke up this morning to find all the #metoo posts on FB I was so disheartened.

How can this keep happening?


In the supermarket, today deciding what fruits or veggies to have for my morning smoothies. At this time of night, the supermarket is pretty dead. Just a few employees working reminding me of zombies. Half motivated to work. Clothes disheveled, vacant eyes. Elevator music playing over the PA.
I am amused by the thought of the dead working at the supermarket.
While my favorites play in my earbuds, I hum along perusing the veggies, I am suddenly distracted by something out of the corner of my eye.
You were in the fruit section. Your head cocked contemplating a melon thoughtfully. Your blonde hair pulled up away from your face by clips. You wore little makeup seemed to make your complexion glow. Your pale yellow romper complimented your golden skin. The neckline plunging low to allow a glimpse of your full round breasts. Your long legs accentuated by the heels you wore.
Lust kicked up inside me. You were sexy. Damn!
As if you sensed my stare you raised your head and turned to look at me.
Our eyes locked.
My heart began to race. Perhaps out of embarrassment that I am caught staring, I can feel my skin heating.
My breathing hitched when you hesitantly smiled, you tucked your hair behind your ear and turned your attention back to the melon in your hands.
I sigh and also went back to my basket of veggies.
“Excuse me,” I am startled. Yanking out my earbuds, I find you staring at me.
“I am sorry I was wondering if you could help me.” You bite your lip.
Butterflies in my stomach send nervous chills throughout my body, causing weak knees and light-headedness because you are more beautiful close-up.
“Ah sure,” I smile at you. “What can I do?”
“I am having trouble finding ripe melons.” you have such a defeated expression on your face that I chuckle.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “It’s not that hard.” my fingers brush yours when I take your melon. My eyes drift to your breasts. I wonder if they would fit in my palms.
Your nipples harden under my gaze. I raise my eyes back to yours. The underlying heat in the intensity of your gaze as you smile faintly sends a surge of excitement throughout my body.
Were you really here for the melon?
“First you tap it.” I murmur
“I wouldn’t mind if you tap me.” you murmur in my ear.
I thought I heard wrong. “What?”
“Right here.” you smile. “I don’t want this fucking melon. I wanted to be fucked.”
Your words are blowing my mind. “Whoa hold up, do you usually hit up the supermarket for a quick lay?”
“No” you play with my shirt “I was about to leave because no one here looked like they would be the wham bam thank you ma’am kind of person I need.”
I scoff “and I do?” did I look that desperate?
“You look like the kind of woman who will eat me here and now.” you take me by the hand and slide it inside your romper to cup your breast.
Your skin is so soft. Your breast fits in my palm.
“You find me beautiful? You want me don’t you?” you breath against my mouth.
“Of course I do.”
“then fuck me. ”
I kiss you.

  • well the beginning.
  • I am going to eat chicken now. I wish I was eating out a woman or having a guy fuck me…





Random thought for today:

person’s tee shirt said “I’m a Becky”

What was he implying?

That he was good at blowjobs?

That he was a homewrecker? Or hopefully, he was encouraging positivity and optimism when faced with adversity.

or he was a basic bitch.

So what does Becky mean:

The name Becky has become a stand-in for a generic woman, generally white, who is familiar with sexual acts.

The cultural references date to William Makepeace Thackeray’s satirical novel Vanity Fair published around 1847. The protagonist, Becky Sharp, is a social climber who utilizes one of the resources at her disposal — her charm and ability to seduce wealthy men — to move up the social ladder. It’s a classic picaresque novel in which a character of low class lives on her wits in a corrupt society. In this case, her wits involve identifying men who stand to gain massive inheritances and convincing them to marry her in secret. She also has few female friends, and the ones she does have she tends to screw over. – Cara Kelly


“Becky” is referring to the act of fellatio. Plies terms the act “Becky” because of the widely held notion and/or stereotype that Caucasianwomen are somewhat more sexually liberal in terms of frequency of encounters, random partnering, and overall lasciviousness. With “Becky” being a popular name given to females at birth in the White society/

“Becky is white. Becky is basic. Becky is bitchy. Nobody likes her.”

  • Rebecca -Daphne Du Maurier
  • Becky -Tom Sawyer- she seduces Tom with her blonde hair.
  • Rebecca -Alfred Hitchcock
  • Sir Mix A Lot- implies that Becky did not understand the appeal of a phat ass.
  • Empire Hakeem asks Becky “what kind of black girl is named Becky?” Becky replies her mother was white. Burn!
  • Becky- is a derogatory term of a Basic bitch

during the 1990s and 2000s  the movies and tv series Becky was characterized as promiscuous, but also as image-obsessed, pageant queen a basic bitch. In later years Becky was characterized as a villain or most hated.

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I am Becky and I disapprove of Being a Becky. Don’t be a basic bitch. Don’t be a homewrecker. Don’t be ignorant. Don’t be hateful!

Be mindful. Be tolerable. Be happy. Enjoy life. Smile. If life hands you a lemon? Throw it back. Hard!

and dont ever cross a Becky!


“Sweet mother of pink! what smells like ass!” I groan. It took a minute for me to realize it was the lotion I was wearing for night.

Dove’s Baby Lotion with a delicate scent. 

Good grief!


I was taking orders on Lane 1 when my sister pipes up from First Booth “Oh Rebecca your boyfriend is here.”

I facepalmed myself. Its just Chad. Give me a break!

Everyone in the Second booth turned to look at me. “What?” I sigh.

He pulled up to the window, and of course, the resting bitch expression on his face makes me laugh. He is always so happy. (sarcasm)

I grin. “I thought we already had this discussion, Chad” I told him. “We no longer serve you.”

I reach for his coffee before the presenter can give it to him. Chad gives me a look.  “But you already did” he muttered.

We both are looking at his coffee. I shake my head. “How are they even paying you?” he groaned.

I burst out laughing. He sits up straighter in his seat. “They love me. They cant do without me, Chad” I give him his coffee.

He manages a smile. “Yeah I doubt that.” he replied. I can barely respond to that one because I am laughing too hard.

The presenter turned to me. “Is that how you treat your boyfriend?”

My mouth dropped. “No, he is not my boyfriend!”

“Oh is he your roommate.”

“No!” I made a face.