Wanted a relaxing Sunday break from everything that's going on in my life lately, so I went to Hobby Lobby today to pick up some supplies to make a dream catcher. As soon as I entered the store, I noticed the checkout girl staring longingly at me through horn-rimmed glasses. This should have been my first warning. I took a left to keep a healthy distance from her, knowing that if she got a good whiff of my NoFap-enhaced pheremones it might cause a scene. As I rounded the styrofoam ball and cone aisle, looking for hemp twine or feathers, I made brief eye contact with a young woman in a fleece vest and brown faux-leather boots. She clutched her side and whinced, probably ovulating right there on the spot. I quickened my pace. I had no idea so many obviously single, late twenties-aged women shopped in this store. Independent or free-spirited types for whom the biological clock is only a societal construct -- until the midnight hour nears. I was so preoccupied I almost walked right past the artificial feathers. Turning back, I endeavored to make my selection quickly. But so many shapes and colors. What would be most suited for my dream catcher? Something natural-looking like the imitation turkey feather, strikingly striped in it's reserved shades of brown? Or maybe a fun and fuzzy iredescent blue feather? Or something sexually potent and commanding as a plastic peacock plume -- would that be too much? I got so lost in the search that I hadn't noticed not one but two women had meandered into the aisle, cat hair clinging to their comfortable black leggings, under the pretense of browsing the doll hair and rhinestone decorating kits, respectively. As each one edged closer to me from either side, I decided to forget the feathers and make a break for the center of the store. I could just get the twine and find feathers later or something. Both did a horrible job of hiding their conspicuous attention to me as I quickly walked away from the feather display, and then one, the closest, abandoned all pretense of looking for something else and began to trail me. Then the other one, jealous, did the same. Spooked by this complete break from normal social decorum on the ladies' part, I guess I wasn't paying as much attention as I tried to slip into the paint canvas and cardboard cutout nook. I bumped right into another one of these lonely souls. We locked eyes. The next moment was extreme tense. I knew if she made a sound the whole store would descend into chaos. Her Zoey Deschannel-inspired bangs quivered and her beaded necklace jangled as her sexual excitement mounted. I could see what was about to happen but was powerless to stop it. In a moment of desperation, I put my finger over her lips, hoping she would at least be quiet. But this backfired tremendously, instantly pushing her over the crest of mere excitement. As the wave of her climax broke she emitted a moan more racous than anything I've ever heard from porn or anywhere else... I bolted for the exit as all hell broke loose in the store. The hoards of soon-to-be wine aunts almost caught me at the bottleneck at checkout, their nails tearing at my clothes and clawing my skin as I broke through the mob. As I ran toward the exit I overturned a clearance shelf of discount Christmas knickknacks, buying me precious time to throw my Honda Civic (I really need to put a spoiler on that thing) into gear as glitter and glass exploded over the industrial carpet. Let this be a warning to the rest of you: if you do NoFap, stay away from Hobby Lobby.