Swimsuit Issue comes out, Kleenex stock rises, Valentines Day plans get cancelled

It's not just another Tuesday

I remember being twelve years old and being unbelievably excited because the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue was coming out. I made up some story about going to somebody's house, grabbed the trusty backpack and took off on my bike. I lived in a little shitty town and there were precious few places to actually cop the issue. There was a Rite-Aid and a little corner store, 7-11 type of joint within 2 miles. And this is February in western NY and I'm 12 and on a bike and it's just about dark out. So two miles each way is quite a trip. Looking back on it I must have told my parents a helluva story for them to let me go out on my bike. Maybe they weren't home and I just left a note. Not like anybody had cell phones, GPS or anything like that. So I go to the Rite-Aid, a big fuckin chain pharmacy, mini-mart deal. I was sure they'd have it. But they didn't. I even asked the counter bitch about it (I told her my dad was in the car and sent me in to get it) and she said that the store owner was very religious so basically there was no chance on them having the magazine. So fuck.

The good news is the little corner store joint was right across the way. This was the only place that you could cop a Playboy (or the like) in town. All the good magazines were behind the counter but I was pretty sure I was legal to buy the swimsuit issue, plus I was pretty sure this guy would sell me a Playboy if I have the cash in my hand. So I park the bike and march the fuck in the store like whoa! Go up to the counter and ask the dude for the swimsuit issue. Then I heard the worst two words of my life to that point "sold out". Needless to say I was pissed.

I was cold because it was fucking cold outside. And I was sweaty because I was riding a bike around in full winter gear. I was just not happy at all. So with no options I headed home. I figured that I would take my magazine cash and go cop something to eat. Not an ideal situation but what the fuck, I was 12. How bad can life really be if you're 12 and your biggest problem is the inability to procure a copy of the new swimsuit issue. The grocery store was about halfway home so I stopped there dreaming of a microwave dinner while watching my VHS tape of late night Cinemax movies.

So I roll up in the grocery store and head for the frozen section. And then.....

if you want our hero to:
-fight Godzilla (Text GODZ to 8884625006)
-meet Rachel Hunter (Text RHUNT to 8884638019)
-die (Text HAPPYEND to 8884626666)
-find the magazine (Text BS to 8664620420)
-discover a copy of Playboy (Text HHEF to 8664635006)

Ok seriously if you actually texted anything to any of those numbers you have your own set of issues. My dictionary is telling me that "texted" is not a word. That's got to be a real word by now right? Isn't "IM'd" a word? According to this dictionary, no. How about "e-mailed"? E-mailed is ok according to the dictionary. As are fucked, fucking and shitting.

Anyway to finish the story I went in to the store and headed back to the freezer area. I rounded the corner and boom! Right in the middle of the freezer aisle was a free -standing display for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. Complete with a life-sized cut out of the supermodel covergirl. (Damn "covergirl" isn't a word either?) I've decided to not name to covergirl for fear of dating myself and my story. Needless to say I was completely enthralled. To top it all off I found an extra $3 in my backpack so I was able to have a microwave dinner and my very own copy of the swimsuit issue.

It's safe to say that I took my first real step towards becoming a real man that day. I persevered and overcame the odds all for some tits. To this day I still find my self fighting the same battles. But on a brighter note, that copy of the swimsuit issue made me the most popular dude in sixth grade until 2 days later when everybody's Dads got their subscription copies in the mail. But for those two days I was a man amongst boys. The only man in the class with the issue with the ass. (I later tried to use this as my slogan for class president but the school did not appreciate the symmetry)