A twofer for you:
After a shocking trip to the Kroger this past week, I now realize that its time to start couponing again. Damn near everything has gone up (this is probably not news to any of you, but I'm just commenting here for posterity). When oranges are 70 cents each, things are rough.
What's strange, though, is that restaurants aren't getting any more expensive. If groceries keep going up, it will be just as cheap to go out as it is to stay in.
So, during my grocery excursion last week, I was perusing the cereal aisle, when I noticed an older couple coming my way. I excused myself as I pushed my cart to one side of the aisle, and they were all smiles and cheerily kept exclaiming "Oh, you aren't in the way! You are just fine!" etc etc, which was nice, I guess, but a bit of overkill. I was taken aback for a minute, then resumed my cereal search.
On the next aisle, the same couple approached me again, but this time, the husband approached me directly and began talking to me (my pet peeve - this shit happens to me ALOT in the grocery store.)
In an overly happy voice, he exclaimed "My, you look pretty today!" He went on to compliment my sundress, and my hair . . . which, again, was nice, I guess, but a bit of overkill. He appeared to be in his late 50s/early 60s, and other than saying these things to me, he was utterly unremarkable, otherwise. He could have been any random near-retirement middle management guy in any white collar company. His wife appeared to be the same age. She was quite small, and could have easily been either a kindergerten teacher or maybe a librarian.
I thanked him and pondered this, as he continued talking . . .
"My wife and I moved here just this past year. We've been trying to meet someone like you (like me, wtf? Fat? Redheaded? ) Where we used to live, we had a close circle of friends that we would invite over for private parties." At this point, he seemed to have a little glint in his eye, and the wife was staring at me, a fixed smile on her face, clutching the handle of her empty grocery cart. He didn't do the whole "nudge, nudge, wink wink" thing, but it was implied, right there next to the Hamburger Helper and Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco treat.
It dawned on me . . . slowly. In equally slow motion, I think I wished them luck, I'm not sure, but I quickly got myself to another aisle.
Once I was home and safe, the first thing I thought was that no one would believe this story, because I often have creepy encounters at the grocery store. The second thing I thought was what I might have stamped on my forehead that attracted the creepy encounters. Still pondering that one. The third thing was . . . maybe they had a gimp in their basement that had died, and I was the right size for the zipper suit.
It did dawn on me that maybe they were into Amway, but that's just wishful thinking. I'm pretty sure I met myself some real-life swingers. Some saggy, elderly, real-life swingers.
That's what happens when they start airing shows about swinging on the basic networks. Assholes.
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