Now those who know me and have peeked inside my fridge will attest to the fact that if I've shopped, that in and of itself is news. Today's example is not that I simply went grocery shopping, but what happened at checkout.
I was done with the cashier and turning to the bagboy as he finished piling stuff into my cart inappropriately and without noticing he was putting heavy stuff on top of, say, eggs. You know, usual bagboy shit. But this one wasn't retarded like a few of the others... unless, of course, you call testosterone poisoning a form of retardation.
You see, he was staring squarely at my chest.
I am in dire need of doing laundry as usual (an act that also is cause for news in my house) and as a result, I'd reached the "rarely worn" section of my t-shirt stack. I was today wearing my "I heart NERDS" shirt, as seen in this picture of me below.
"So, you like nerds, huh?" His voice cracked like Bobby Brady's as he asked that, finally making eye contact with me, briefly.
"Huh?" as I came out of my fog, expecting only the usual, "Can I help you out to your car?"
"Nerds. Your shirt says 'I heart nerds'."
"Oh, yeah. Yes, I do, as a matter of fact."
"Cool." Awkward pause. "Can I help you out to your car?"
"No thanks, I've got it."
"Oh, okay." Another awkward pause as he slowly is about to put the 30 pound pack of bottled Deer Park water on top of all my other stuff, which required me to have to guide him to the LOWER part of the cart. He giggled and continued finally...
"So, um... I am one. A nerd, I mean... I play Dungeons and Dragons every weekend. Really." Followed by a wink.
"Well then," I smiled, "that definitely qualifies you."
As I pushed the cart away, my daughter who is only a few years younger than him asks me, "Why did he wink at you?"
"Because he's a boy and boys are retarded sometimes," I explained.
"Oh yeah, I already knew that!" Honora giggled. "I've got two brothers."
She's way ahead of me at her age. Definitely.
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