Ask me if I give a flip about verb tenses

Monday I strapped on baby Chunky McChubberstein, grabbed a wonky-wheeled cart and Noah’s hand and embarked on the weekly grocery run.  This was President’s Day, a “holiday” where we sit around and look at Honest Abe’s face on pennies and five dollar bills and reminisce about past leaders.  What, is that not right?  Well hell if I know what President’s Day is for. This year apparently it was about stealing my precious Day Off.  Presidents are bastards.

The list was shorter than usual, because L and I have gotten V. Serious about the monthly budget.  We had some extra expenses in January that made our bank account start to circle the drain and so the creative caps went on and we decided to use every possible item in our cabinets to make whatever haphazard meals we could out of what we already had.  It was kind of crazy to see how little we needed to make several rather large dishes that we could eat off of all week.  And that is why tomorrow I will be enjoying my fourth tuna sandwich since Monday.

Excuse my while I slip into my Bragging Pants and say that my kids are pretty awesome at the grocery store.  Noah has always been fairly well behaved out in public, and he is a good helper when it comes to reaching things on low shelves when I have 14 pounds of drooly cheeks and ham hocks hanging in the baby carrier on my chest.  Plus Rosie just maxes out the cute as usual, which makes people nicer when you’re trying to shove your ramen-noodle laden, left-veering grocery cart past their neatly stacked handbasket.  Even so, L and I had decided that if we could scrounge up enough change around the house, that I was deserving of a Starbucks Anything With Caffeine to carry around with me while I completed the task at hand with two children.

We enter the grocery store and I purchase my small coffee and we’re on to the first item (bread).  Noah peruses the aisle, making sure that I know that there are DOUGHNUTS MOM, DID YOU SEE THEM THEY’RE RIGHT HERE IF YOU NEED SOME and I am calculating the per slice cost of whole wheat when I notice that there is a man standing rather close to me, turned as if he knows me and is about to speak, so I look up.

I definitely do not know this man.

“You’re really pretty,” he says in a breathy, Lifetime movie murderer kind of way.

I don’t think I even uttered a syllable back to him because I was 1. in Instant Skeeved Out Mode and 2. I was mesmerized by the tattoos he had just under his eyes.  Were those tears? Lightning bolts? Swastikas?  And then I came out of my reverie and realized OMG WHO CARES CREEPY DUDE IS MACKING ON ME.

Luckily he was a non-issue, because he instantly disappeared and I never saw him again for the rest of the trip.

But that was just Aisle 1.

Aisle 2 (canned soups, dried fruit, beans) seemed more promising, or at least less seedy for its lack of glassy-eyed close talkers.  But as I round the corner to Aisle 3, I am accosted by a woman who doesn’t seem to be quite all there (for one thing, she had no groceries.  No cart, no basket, nothing. Hey! Just hanging out on Aisle 2 for kicks!) who starts a friendly enough conversation about how cute my kids are and aren’t I lucky to have two and then quickly descends like a harpy on me after that about how I’m so lucky to be able to dress my baby in such expensive clothes (she was in 100% hand-me-downs) and the fact that I’m out on a Monday morning because I don’t have to work because my man takes care of me and oooh, look at you with your STARBUCKS, your man must be RICH, must be nice to be so RICH and have no job and drink STARBUCKS and I’m thinking am I being pranked?  Did the kooky bus stop here and let off a load to buy a gallon of milk?  Am I being attacked for my coffee that I bought entirely with quarters and dimes and nickels covered in unidentifiable sticky substances and dust balls from under my couch while I try to stick to our meager food budget and take care of two kids?  And I’m realizing, no, this lady is serious.  She has serious issue with me shopping for my groceries with a coffee on a Monday morning.  And it’s a good thing that Noah was with me because in my head that lady was getting a Piece of My Mind and it was not rated G.

All of this occurred in the first 10 minutes of the shopping trip that I took Monday morning, and the week has not gotten any better since then.

But hey, at least I’m pretty, right?

OMG.

Next up! Tuesday!

5 comments

1 Jillian { 02.19.09 at 8:10 am }

So sorry about the whack-a-loons! I hope, in the very least, you were able to enjoy your coffee.

2 Jihyun { 02.19.09 at 4:52 pm }

Smarmy dude would probably have had me screaming and running down the aisle. And the lady…. I pray that your week is getting better even as I type this.

3 bebe { 02.19.09 at 5:02 pm }

ok, momma bear feelings kicked in. Stupid creep. (but yes, you are pretty) And it’s not easy working part time and taking care of 2 kids. You did deserve a Starbucks coffee.

I’m bringing food when we come next weekend.

4 Stephanie { 02.20.09 at 2:13 pm }

ewww…sorry that happened!

5 gossamer { 02.22.09 at 10:19 pm }

they were probably from Columbia. We have a lot of those here…

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