For those not aware of the slang of the 20th Century Beer Googles is a state of inebriation where your body starts losing it's self control and the more animal urges come forth. When your standards lower due to your instincts to rut like a wild boar begin to take over. That or you are just so drunk your horny ass would hump a fire hydrant if you weren't scared of your friends putting it on youtube.

Now I shall delve into a more insidious mental state. This is the story of Deli Goggles.

Let me describe to you a moment in time captured under the harsh fluorescent glare of a local supermarket...

***a crescendo of the Oscar Meyer Weiner tune begins***


Standing in front of the Deli counter at the local grocery store I am bored. There are other shoppers walking in a trance. Like a salmon going upriver to die yet but they need to buy Cheezits first.

Another customer walks up. I of course make fast eye contact, a nod of the head or a fast smile of acknowledgment. She vaguely resembles a woman but you don't care. You haven't had supper yet and the smells from the Deli counter are enticing.

The clerk behind the counter asks for your order. I say the first thing and he's off. Apparently he can't remember more then one task at a time so you I to piece meal the list to him. As I wait for the pound of swiss cheese I realize I am bored. I had read all the labels in the area and have started to see if I could remember the first few ingredients on a few of them to test myself. Truly bored.

Then I notice her scent. A perfume that I can smell over the gentle waft of garlic emanating from the salami. I glance at her. You know, she is not that bad. Then the clerk hands me my Swiss and asks if there is anything else. I look up from this intriguing woman and tell him I need a pound of pastrami. He walks off.

Trying not to be scene I steal furtive glances at her some more. The line from her neck to her shoulders is exquisite. Like a bust of a beautiful Greek princess. Not realizing my hunger for food is now manifesting itself through the desire for physical release. The lady next to me looks better then she did 5 minutes ago. She is getting better by the stomach pang.

My pastrami is done. I now give the man behind the counter my final order which is for Cajun spiced ham. He scurries off. I gander at Jessica Alba's hotter sister now standing next to me waiting for her head cheese.

Curses on the the deli guy! He interrupts my day dream to ask me if I gave a damn about the thickness of the ham. Doesn't he see that I am mentally about to enter the Sexlympics with a world class partner? I tell him whatever he showed me was good enough. I look at her again and see that certain sparkle in her one good eye. The stubble on her chin was like cracked peppercorns on the outside of a medium rare roast beast.

One good eye...what is behind the eye patch?

Finally my rescuer behind the counter hands me my final parcel and I look at her again. Like I had just woken up for the first time I see reality. I immediately grab my packages and get out of there as fast as I can.

The freak next to me was drooling out her left side and was eying me all creepy.

~The Dad