So, I was on my way home from work on St. Patty’s Day when I decided to make a quick stop at my local market. I frequent this place around two or three times a week and most of the staff knows my face if not my name. I go in and grab a basket and I’m off down the numbered aisles in search of my quarry–which in this instance was a bottle of laundry detergent, a pack of razors and two boxes of cinnamon and brown sugar Eggo Waffles. My kids love them…ok ok I love them…FINE I’m addicted to them and I bought a nice fancy toaster so that way I can enjoy them at just the perfect degree of golden brown tasty goodness! Don’t judge me! Anyway, as I’m walking up to the front of the store to checkout it appears that another customer and I are on our way to the same counter.
She’s tall, around 5’7″ or 5’8″ with dark brown hair poking out from underneath a white baseball cap that was just slightly hiding a pair of striking grey eyes. Wearing a black track suit with white stripes that run the length of her shoulders, sleeves and pant legs, she looks to be struggling with her items. That’s why I always grab a basket, even if I’m going in for just one thing you just never know you might end up walking out with five. In this woman’s case, the number was four. Three bottles of red wine (3 Sisters I think) and a small basket of strawberries. Her right hand just barely big enough to hold the wine she shifts one bottle to her left, her finely manicured French tips clinking against the glass bottles. I submit to you the follow written transcription of what happened next.
ME: (Gesturing to the woman to go ahead of me) “You go on ahead, you’ve got you hands full”
HER: “Oh thank you so much! I wasn’t expecting you to let me go ahead of you.”
ME: “No problem (pointing to the items on the counter), you’ve got some high priority items there, it’s fine.”
HER: (Sporting a big smile while pointing to each item) “Well this one is for so and so as a thank you present and this one is for blah blah blah (I don’t remember the names) as a thank you for some recent charity work and this one is for my husband as a ‘thank you’, too.”
ME: (Sporting a goofy grin to denote i’m about to say something I think is clever) “Well where’s the forth one to thank yourself with?”
HER: (Laughing, big and loud) “Well I’ll thank myself later with some beer to go along with my corned beef and cabbage, but I like the way you think!”
And then it happened.. BOOP! Just like that. In the blink of an eye. She took her right nicely manicured french tipped index finger and POKED ME IN THE STOMACH. WTF!!! Yes, IN MAH STOMACH!!! Like I was the Pillsbury Doughboy and I was gonna go HEEE HEEEE!!! or something. Now at this point the cashier is ringing her up and I’m just standing there rattling off to myself in machine gun like succession
“Did that just happen? Did ANYONE else see that??”Why my stomach? I don’t have a gut! I’m not a model or anything but I can look down and see my shoelaces tied off at the top of my shoes!!” Who the hell is this lady?? Did she actually have four bottles and just down one on her way to the checkout counter?”
By the time I’m done contemplating these questions and the effects of her nobby stun gun have worn off she’s grabbing her items and walking out.
“Thanks again” she says to me with a big smile on her face.
“No problem, have a good one” I blankly reply, mostly as a reflex.
And just like that, she’s gone.
I look at the checker at the register with the “Can you believe that?” look and I get nothing back from her. Nothing. As if she didn’t see a thing. I look at the person behind me in line with the same expression and get more of the same: Nothing. Now I say this honestly, I don’t do drugs so I know I didn’t just hallucinate that shit yet no one around me seemed to blink an eye over it or about it AT ALL. This leads me to the mildly uncomfortable soul-searching question that I’ll pass on to you. Am I crazy, or was that just a TOTAL violation of my personal space?
Please send your thoughts here…