I wandered off to the grocery store today, an activity that I’ve been less than enamored with of late. I went to the other store, not the one that’s still in the midst of rearranging every damn thing in it. I alternate based on which one I dislike the least on any given day.
Anyway, I was in the frozen food aisle, minding my own business, lost in my own little world as always when this man decides my life is incomplete without knowing his preference in frozen rice/vegetables. I admit it took me a second to realize that he was actually speaking to me. Yep, even looked around to see if there was someone behind me. There wasn’t. No one else anywhere close so he had to be sharing that tidbit of his life with me. I nodded and muttered something inane that seemed to satisfy him and off he went.
Outside, as I was stowing my stuff in my car an older man approached, pointed at the college playing field next to the parking lot and sighed. He then started in on his worries about the sport being played, women’s rugby. I’ve noticed them playing before and let me tell you, those girls are fierce! His primary concern, as I soon learned, was with the effects of the game on their breasts. Hmm. Okay. Perhaps he thought I cared because I also have breasts? I have no idea. I did tell him that they’re not girls to be messed with even though I do believe he was basically harmless.
What I don’t understand is why these people insist on talking to me. Do they think I’m nice or something? Trust me, I’m not. Well, I am at times but not in that way and always very selectively. I certainly am not what anyone would call friendly by any stretch of the imagination. I just don’t get it.
Anyway, I was in the frozen food aisle, minding my own business, lost in my own little world as always when this man decides my life is incomplete without knowing his preference in frozen rice/vegetables. I admit it took me a second to realize that he was actually speaking to me. Yep, even looked around to see if there was someone behind me. There wasn’t. No one else anywhere close so he had to be sharing that tidbit of his life with me. I nodded and muttered something inane that seemed to satisfy him and off he went.
Outside, as I was stowing my stuff in my car an older man approached, pointed at the college playing field next to the parking lot and sighed. He then started in on his worries about the sport being played, women’s rugby. I’ve noticed them playing before and let me tell you, those girls are fierce! His primary concern, as I soon learned, was with the effects of the game on their breasts. Hmm. Okay. Perhaps he thought I cared because I also have breasts? I have no idea. I did tell him that they’re not girls to be messed with even though I do believe he was basically harmless.
What I don’t understand is why these people insist on talking to me. Do they think I’m nice or something? Trust me, I’m not. Well, I am at times but not in that way and always very selectively. I certainly am not what anyone would call friendly by any stretch of the imagination. I just don’t get it.
2 comments:
B,
You just look so sweet and innocent. Like the girl next door. You know, like a lady that you could tell anything to and who would sympathize, which of course, you totally are a wonderful listener, but...
Those that know you, know better (sweet and innocent...Ha!)
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No, you have a sweet 'look' and yes,you ARE sweet. Honestly, I think there are lots of lonely people out there and, for some, a trip to the grocery store is one of the few times they are around people. I get that when I go to the grocery store, too. It never bothers me.
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