Saturday, May 31, 2008

the role of the bff

My best friend Jen is not a blogger nor does she subscribe to my worship appreciation of Whole [Paycheck] Foods. She unabashedly shops at The Store That Shall Not Be Named, regularly mocks my OCD tendencies, and refuses to watch brilliant movies if they have unhappy endings.

But despite all those faults and even though she calls my Grocery Store Hottie "an infant," Jen was my wing woman this afternoon as I foolishly attempted once again to elicit something resembling chat from him. The sun was shining, my hair looked good, I was wearing my awesome Esprit ($6.99 via Goodwill!) camouflage pants, and was a little giddy from all that Relay for Life walking; I got into his line with high hopes.

I think it helped that a better (and also cute but not hot) conversationalist was bagging my goods, but Jen & I were on a roll that the Hottie could not escape. Frankly, I think a few of our very witty remarks went over his head (sigh) but in the end there was banter and laughing and goodness. I'm pretty sure angels were singing.

Plus I scored an oatmeal carmelita.