Let me preface by saying, this could only happen to me! Not knowing whether we are getting two feet of snow or just a dusting, I decide to head to the grocery store at 7 a.m. before the mad rush of apocalyptic food shoppers grabbing their snow emergency bread and milk show up. I decide on that massive, discount, mega, super-store, better known as "Wally World," for some staples. I roll out of bed, throw on some clothes, and think to myself, "it's Walmart, isn't it better to shower once you've returned home?!" So I must confess that I'm not looking much better than the folks who show up on the "Walmartians" emails that turn up in my inbox. My butt crack isn't showing and I don't have my cleavage tucked into my pants, but it still isn't pretty.
So as I race down the frozen food isle I see the all to familiar road block of workers re-stocking the freezer case with giant sleighs of food. Great, I've escaped the soccer moms with their gaggle of kids, but now I've come during "restocking" hour. Deciding there is no way I can clear the DiGiorno pizza guy and his menagerie of pizzas, I turn my cart to head back the way I've come.
DIGIORNO PIZZA GUY: "I don't mind moving this stuff for a gorgeous woman such as yourself!!"
ME: "blha ha ahah hahaha hahha aha!"
DIGIORNO PIZZA GUY: "You act like you don't hear that often enough!"
ME: (sarcastically) "Well I'm not sure how 'gorgeous' I'm looking this morning!"
DIGIORNO PIZZA GUY: "Gurl, you're too hard on yourself, you need to come spend a little time with the DiGiorno pizza guys!"
ME: (now turning beet red & trying to back peddle out of this isle and conversation) "well thank-you, you're very kind."
DIGIORNO PIZZA GUY: "No, I'm being serious, you single, come out and mingle!"
It's one of those surreal moments where you say to yourself, "am I really getting hit on at seven o'clock in the morning in the frozen food isle of Wal-mart!?!" The scary part is that he didn't seem creepy or weird. He definitely was running some game, but he didn't seem weird. He actually seemed kinda nice. Come to think of it, he was quite a bit younger than me. I guess I'm looking less like a meth addict these days...LOL.
Somehow I couldn't shake this experience as quickly as I would have in my younger days when guys hit on me left and right and I often didn't even pause to acknowledge it. As I was reviewing the incident in my mind on the drive home (another indicator that's its been far too long since somebody tried to pick me up) I realized that I had a similar experience a few weeks prior in a different supermarket.
I was in my car pulling up to that bold white line near the front door where people enter and exit the store with their grocery carts. I stopped to let some gentleman, also younger, cross in front of me. He flashed me this big smile as he pulled together his best swagger as he walked to his car. I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled into a parking space and I practically ran into the store fearing he might still be watching. Moments later, out of the corner of my eye, I see the exact same guy walking the supermarket looking down each isle as he passed it as if he was searching for someone. Now why would someone who just paid for their groceries and walked to their car suddenly be back in the supermarket. I suppose it's possible he forgot something but my female instinct said that wasn't the case. He was looking for me. YIPES! I had hid in the cereal isle praying he wouldn't find me! Where's one of those giant skids of frozen foods to hide behind now?!
What is with the chubby chasers lately?! Did they all hold a meeting? What would the meeting minutes reveal? "Hey, you wanna know a good place to meet fat chicks...try the supermarket!" uhhhhh.....what can I say. This is my life.
So speaking of lives, I'm feeling marginally better. I'm off my bender and making slow progress back to healthfulness. I'm still a bit blue and CAN NOT believe it is snowing AGAIN! I have more than exceeded my quota of snow shoveling this week. I'm running out of places to put the snow, especially near the end of the driveway where a wall a of snow stands that is nearly my height. Having to heave snow above that perimeter is causing me some mild discomfort today. I left out this grunt when I leaned over to pick up the basket of wash. Generally, I LOVE snow and don't mind shoveling, but today I must confess that I am whispering in my mind, "please don't lay, please don't lay." Making matters ever more dreary is my sick husband who is moping around the house complaining of a sore throat. He is making that awful throat-clearing sound that makes you wince every time you hear it, and forces you to consider the very real possibility that you too may be making the exact same sound next week if you don't protect yourself well enough. So not much in the way of excitement for us this weekend.
"When a man talks dirty to a woman, it's sexual harassment. When a woman talks dirty to a man, it's $3.95 a minute! -Author unknown
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