Can't Touch This!

Sometimes I think I shop late at night for the same reason that I used to go on ill-fitting dates: for the stories.

So I'm standing in line at the (super giant chain) grocery store, and a guy comes up behind me with little ones in tow and only about five items in his cart. I ask, "Want to go ahead of me," like I often do, because I often have about 250 things in my cart, and I like to be conscientious of other people's time.

He graciously accepts, and now I'm still standing in line, but with sense of "all is well with the world," since I just did one of my favorite things.

After we continue to there for about 15 minutes for just one woman to discuss with the cashier (who is indulging her, mind you) the finer details of the stitching on the 3 items she's buying, the man that I let go in front of me begins speaking to someone apparently just to my right?

"Oh, I don't think I can. I was allowed ahead myself."

I look to my right and there's an exceedingly skinny, shaky "gentleman" swaying back-and-forth while hoisting up a pair of flip-flops in a "May I?" gesture. Now he's hoisting them at me.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead," I relent.

"Oh thank you," he bellows.

Without missing a beat, flip-flop guy is suddenly squeezing me close. As if that wasn't freaking me out enough, he turns and puts his mouth right up to my ear and sort of low giggle-growls, "You know you don't want me smelling like a liquor store standing at your backside."

It went from feeling like this...

...To this. Really quick.

Then he squeezed me again for good measure, and hopped up to the front of the line.

As I'm standing there trying to shake off the willies that I'm feeling, a woman pops up behind me screeching, "LEON, GET ME DEEZE, TOO!"

I turn to see an equally skinny, equally shaky woman waiving bikini bottoms in the air. Not whole swimsuits ... just the bottoms ... and she looks at me and adds, "They're for my dancin'!"

As if that were not not enough of a visual for my brain to try to purge, she proceeds to then show me her dance moves, which were seriously inappropriate for doing in a grocery store, much less in front of that other guy's little ones!

After about 2 awkward minutes of her punctuating her dancing by repeating the phrase, "You know what I'm talkin' 'bout," she then slaps me on the back (although in retrospect, I think it was an attempted hug that I shied away from just in time), and hops up to the front of the line, where she proceeds to hug the guy ahead of me, one of his kids, the lady who was still discussing the stitching, our lane's cashier, and the cashier for the lane next to us.

That's when I notice that somehow "Leon" had been hiding several other little things behind those flip-flops he was waiving -- cigarettes, lighter, batteries, crackers, some sort of ... ointment. Or maybe he just managed to grab all of those things in the checkout lane? I don't know. I'm still in some amount of shock.

Their little "may I skip ahead" stunt ended up going on for 15 more minutes as they stood there making friends with the cashier -- who, again, was indulging them -- before finally making their exit ... but not before telling everyone in our line that they will remember us all and, "We're friends for life now! We don't forget!"

For some reason, this feels more like a threat than a promise.

Strangely enough, just two nights earlier at the drive-in for the big "Monster Bash" event, I overheard in the restroom some girls chatting about buying "bright colored bottoms at [mega chain store] for go-go dancing" -- that must have been exactly what this woman was waiving around. Maybe I spent too much time with that info in my head and I drew this to me? I dunno; I'm still confused.

I think this shopping experience officially beats the time that I was there after 1AM, with two "gentlemen" standing in line together behind me. One kept repeating over and over, "gon' kill dat dawg - gon' kill dat dawg," while the other stood eerily silent. They were only buying one item: a hammer.

Please, hammer, don't hurt 'em!