Among all the things that the prawn was and was not, the prawn was not a "shopper". Getting her to shop for clothes was out of the question, and only prompted by such events as holes being worn in the butt of her favorite shorts. Even something as essential to life as grocery shopping was put off until the last possible moment. Jack stood before her open fridge, making note of the pickle jar full of brine but sin pickles, a half-gallon of milk that was likely past its "best by" date, and a jar of plum jam. These foodstuffs were what remained of the occupants of her fridge-- it would seem that her groceries were finally reaching critical levels.

"Guess I could get sun juice or sun-ting," Jack rumbled to herself. It was her day off, which meant there was plenty of time for such adult endeavors as "grocery shopping" and "interacting with polite society". The prawn grabbed her wallet and the key to her apartment on her way to the door. With a click of the key in the lock, the prawn was gone.

==////==

With the weather as fine as it was, Jack had opted to walk to the grocery store despite the fact that it was a few miles from her house. The sun on her chitin, the wind in her antennae-- it was a beautiful day. She might as well drink in the good weather before winter rolled around. And, best of all, there hadn't been too many people, which always made walks that much more enjoyable! The prawn paused at the last stoplight before she reached the supermarket, staring across the way towards the brightly lit entrance. It would be good to have substantial food again. The light of the crosswalk shifted from the large, red hand to the little green man, and Jack began to follow the small cohort of pedestrians towards the store.

A lovely day it was. The kind you skipped through with a basket of flowers, frolicking among the fields of your large busy city with no fields and few flowers!

So instead Gregory Samson had a basket full of rainbow trout(because they were colorful like flowers, without a doubt!), and he was skipping through dark alleys! To be honest, it wasn't very fulfilling. Filling, though, as he'd eaten at least half of the fish after about ten minutes of this particularly ill advised shenanigan.

He'd also slapped someone with a trout, too. That had been hilarious. Shame, about her falling over and dropping her cane into traffic. Dreadful shame.

After a few more minutes of gallivanting about he stopped suddenly in his tracks, drawing a deep breath. One of his little ancillary hands rested on his chest. Of late it had felt terribly... Empty. Sure, blowing up a Golem, and tormenting that artist had filled the gap for a moment, but moments of joy were easily lost in a sea of lonely.

He wondered if he could grab some of his minions and find some troub-

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the almost empty streets he caught a glimpse of something walking past. Just a glimpse, but it stole his attention and kept it greedily. The giant Roach skittered to the end of the alley he'd been skipping through, his perfectly good basket of fish left to fall prey to what ever else roamed those dark alleys.

He saw her, then. Where was that music coming from? Harps and mandolins? Strange. Her? Anything but.

She was beautiful. Sturdy legs. Wide hips. Her chest, with it's two lovely arms. Those luscious antennae. And all that chitin. So much chitin. His mandibles widened as far as they could, and his antennae perked up as tall as they could.

He was smitten. Immediately, profusely smitten. Even so, it was best to play things nonchalant! It wasn't like he could just go hit on her! The most reasonable response would be to lift her up and take her to his domicile, dance around some rocks until she decided on whether he was a good mate. That was how it worked, right?

No! This was the human world. One had to play things smoothly... be normal about it. Flirt.

He walked across traffic, headed right up to her, and reached out to grab her hand. Oh, right uncontrollable compulsions were a thing in his life, weren't they?

Provided he was able to get some hand, he wouldn't pull her or anything; he would merely stand there nervously.

"...My... This is awkward. I seem to have grabbed your hand." He didn't let go or anything.

Goodness, he just realized something. He was completely naked! He'd approached this female with no decorative head adornment with which to separate himself from other potential mates! What kind of hideous bug monster was he?!

Jack wasn't usually one for random meet and greets. She made note of the giant cockroach standing across the street from her, insofar as someone might make note of a total stranger. She acknowledged them with a "Huh haven't seen a cockroach mutant before" and then she was right back to writing her mental shopping list.

Until said cockroach decided to take it upon himself to intervene. And grab one if her primary hands. Her reaction was slow... Disbelief rendered her immobile for a few moments. What... the... f**k?

>> "...My... This is awkward. I seem to have grabbed your hand."

The prawn used her free hand to brush the cockroach's hands of.

"No," was her stern reply, "No touch. Don't know you."

The crossing signal changed and the prawn stepped around him, setting forth across the street.

She didn't react well. This was terrible! Had he ruined his chances at a future with her? He'd already planned which wallpaper to use in the kid's rooms! All 8,176 of them! It would be a big house.

"No, No touch. Don't know you."

"Ah, yes, that is an issue, isn't it! Of course!" She turned to leave and he turned to follow her, doing the best he could to walk aside her. "My name is Gregory Samson! A pleasure to meet you!" He held out a hand to shake as they walked, not really worried about running into anyone as they traversed the streets. Anyone who was out gave them a wide berth. Not one, but two giant chitinous monsters strolling about? A guy sitting on a bus bench leaned in to another, mumbling under his breath. "Great, now they're roaming in packs"

He ignored the man, but silently took note of his face. He would have to have someone break his legs in a week or so!

"It's such a small city! It's a wonder we haven't bumped noses in the past! I do wonder where we are headed, though?" He posed innocently, his chest hands fiddling nervously with each other. He gave them a little whap with his free hand, and they settled down.

This guy didn't give up. He also didn't shut up. Good grief. If he didn't look the way he did, she'd think he had been put to the task of talking to her by a friend as a joke. People didn't talk to her like that. For that matter, why was this guy talking to her, in the first place? Bumbling over his words and fidgetting and... acting all nervous-like. It was weird. This guy was weird.

>> "Ah, yes, that is an issue, isn't it! Of course! My name is Gregory Samson! A pleasure to meet you!"

Jack reached the other side of the street and stopped on the curb, fellow pedestrians rushing around them like a stream around two insectoid rocks. Even if this guy-- Gregory, as it were-- was super f---ing annoying, social convention wouldn't let her not shake his hand.

Begrudgingly (but carefully-- he had tiny hands!) Jack clasped her considerably larger hand to his, gave it a single decisive shake, and and even more abrupt reply.

"Jack," she replied, "Nice to neet you."

The latter sentiment was unconvincing but not overtly frigid. Having her hand grabbed had been off-putting, and had she not been so affronted by it, she might have given him a poke with her whittling knife. Nothing immediately life-threatening, maybe just a jab at the palm. Then she wouldn't be there, being held captive by small talk with Gregory.

>> "It's such a small city! It's a wonder we haven't bumped noses in the past! I do wonder where we are headed, though?"

Her face crumpled in confusion and mild dismay. The city wasn't small. And "we"? Where did this "we" come from? What the f---, Gregory?

"I'n going to duh grocery store," Jack explained. Emphasis on the "I". Not we, "Don't know where you're going." Not with her. Somewhere else. To grab someone elses' hand.

She touched his hand. Her skin was so... carapace-like. Alluring. It was a firm shake, abrupt. So dainty and well contained.

"Jack, Nice to neet you."

Oh? The rumblings of an impediment. Interesting. Her articulation wasn't near as developed as his. He couldn't help but find it endearing, though.

"My dear, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine. It's always nice to meet another mutant so much like myself. That taken into regard, I apologize, I was taken off guard by you. I shall henceforth contain myself, by my pride."

He gave a determined nod. He wasn't so thick as to not notice she wasn't in love at first sight, here. He needed to win her over.

"I'n going to duh grocery store, Don't know where you're going."

"Why, with you, my dear! We simply must talk! It's a matter of the utmost importance, actually. I myself am going hat shopping in the same direction. Tell me you will lend me your company along the way! I would be a broken bug should you say no..."