My dairy guy has returned! Now he's Freezer Guy but no matter, I'm adaptable. Chances are I have more reasons to linger in the frozen foods section anyway; one can only spend so much time around yogurt & butter before looking suspicious. Or pathetic.
Let me relay the story of my Wednesday, junior high-style; it's so much more fun that way. So I was finishing grocery shopping for our camping trip - wait, here's the junior high part: I was wearing my Old Navy jeans that I cut off at the knees in a very "look at me not caring about fashion while I stay cool yet I still seem kinda hip as an older woman" way and a cute (tightish) heathered beige t-shirt and my Bohemian-style brown sandals with foxy "Run for the Bordeaux" red painted toenails showing. I know, totally cute, thanks. Anyway, I was feeling pretty good not only because of this sweet outfit but mainly because my shopping trip was working out efficiently and I was finding everything I needed (except Trader Joe's only had non-meat breakfast links - what the ?? And all of Safeway's graham crackers contained high fructose corn syrup, but otherwise...). I walked into Wild Oats expecting nothing more than healthier graham crackers (for s'mores, yes, but shut up) and actual meat sausages when BAM right in front of me - Dairy Guy! (Okay, I didn't really run into him, but figuratively I was knocked out. Keep up with the literary devices, please).
Long lost, sweet faced, "Would you like me to feel them?" [his innocent reply when I previously asked him to help me determine if coffee beans in a heavy paper bag were whole or ground] Dairy Guy. Sigh. My heart did leap, I gasped, but he didn't notice. Thank goodness, really, because how weird would that be? "Ma'am, are you alright?" "Yes, I was just really excited to see you again! But you don't know me..." Awkward smile, mental processing of my face for the backroom bulletin board notice 'Keep this woman out of the frozen food section when I'm scheduled to work.'
I picked up the things I needed and proceeded to troll the frozen food aisle until he was compelled to ask if I was finding everything alright. A more adept flirt with a ridiculous crush would be prepared at this point to make up something for him to find, but that's not me. I did manage a smile that I'm pretty sure didn't look too psychotic and said, "Yes, thanks." Which in a classic romantic comedy would have been recognized as a clever little double entendre, but here in real life it just means, "There is no need for us to interact any further. Thank you. Goodbye." And that was that. Enormously significant in my suburban wife & mom world (obviously); just another day on the tiresome job for Dairy/Freezer Guy. Maybe I should drop a card with my blog address on it? So he could perhaps call the cops the next time I stop by for frozen food products? Yeah, nevermind.
Tune in next time when I deliberate over possible reasons for his six month absence (none of which feature a lovely new wife and extended honeymoon).
Author's note: You are not crazy; this entry just showed up Friday the 13th. However, I manipulated the 'post options' to show this as Wednesday's post, because that is when all of these 'events' occurred AND I actually hand-wrote it on the way to camping. It makes me happy to be precise.