It wasn’t too long ago that as a young teen I had my first job. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was a good job right across the street from my house with my roommate’s aka parents. I got paid well, and for a teen, that meant it helped support my Bath and Body Works addiction along with my feeding frenzies at Taco Bell. ....If I knew what I know now, I would go back in time, slap the taco out of my hand, smack myself in the face in shame, and then proceed to pick up the taco and eat it.
I met many walks of life at my job. Going to an all girls high school clearly sheltered my social life, and this greatly helped as people of the opposite sex actually worked there and communicated with you. There tended to be some hot mancakes mixed with socially awkward creepers, and of course, the bat shit crazy old men. It’s been quite a while since my days in the floral department, but since I’m still living at home with said roommates, I do tend to walk into my old job from time to time. This is where my life has come full circle. I want to preface this by saying I am not a bitch and nor did I want to be one in this situation, but sweet nibblets, my life is effed up sometimes. Here is yet another story where I get put into a compromising position that I swear only happens to me and no one comes to my rescue. This is no Disney Story…I have no prince on a white horse. Thanks a lot Disney. You have ruined my dreams……omg just typing that out I have become uneasy. Disney I love you. OK, back to the story.
It was a lovely Sunday afternoon, and I got the urge to eat healthy. These urges happen often and then are followed by me sitting alone at my kitchen table eating a block of cheese. My 1 roommate does the food shopping and I decided to tag along. That was mistake number one. We had picked up my assorted healthy items to make this bangin salad I eat religiously at panera. Another story for another time, because I am drooling on my keyboard just thinking about it. Anways…After I picked out my salad fixins, Roommate #1 still needs to get 1 more item for Roommate #2. I offered to get it. This would become mistake #2. As I proceed down the Dairy aisle, I feel a disturbance in the force. This is when I am approached by what can only be described as an ogre lurking behind me. I feel heavy breathing and panting. And this is the moment…the moment where I hit rock bottom in my life of Singlehood. I am approached by this manboy. I knew him before when I used to work there. We were never friends really, but I knew of him and he knew of me. He was the all around guy that would basically help at the store doing whatever, mostly janitorial work. The story around him was that he was very quiet, socially awkward, and lived with his mother. I never had a problem with him. I was always polite to him. Anyways, I am just buttering you up before bitch comes out to play. Ogre comes up to me and says only 3 things to me. 3 things that changed my life forever.
First thing – “Hey are you the girl that used to work in floral?” Why yes Ogre, I was, thanks for remembering my name. Best part was…he didn’t ask my name. Keep this in mind as the riveting conversation furthers.
2nd thing – “Are you dating anyone?” I should have seen this coming and I smack myself across the face everyday for actually telling the truth. Well no Ogre, Actually I’m not dating anyone. Note to single ladies out there….just say “why yes, I actually am dating someone, he is a beefcake with a PHD and a butt chin.”
Now as I am sure all of you are smarter then me, You would have already guessed where this is going. I was so flustered by this illuminating conversation or the cold of the dairy aisle that my sense of consciousness went right out the window.
3rd thing – “Can I have your number” NOW…this is where I get aggravated and annoyed and crazy. I have 4 words to describe this. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? What do you say to something like this? I was at a loss of words, which doesn’t happen very often….actually it doesn’t happen at all. And when I don’t talk people get nervous. A million thoughts are running through my head in under 10 seconds. Shit Shit Shit was the first. Followed by where the fuck is my ROOMATE!!!??? and ending with oh holy mother of god ANSWER SOMETHING so the lambs stop screaming. Note – THIS GUY DOESN”T EVEN KNOW MY NAME. What makes this even better is that after I turn him down, he tried to persuade me by telling me that he just moved out to his own place. ……….southpark eyes moving side to side……..This guy is 40 years old. Excuse me sir, if you are 40 and just getting your own place, that’s a deal breaker.
I commend guys for having the balls to do this, or at least extra balls to do this, but really dude? We have never ever talked before this very weird moment and this is what you’re puling all the stops with? At least offer me a coupon or something for half off the salad bar or something. Reel me in. GET TO KNOW MAMA before you just ask me for my number. I mean I know we are in the dairy aisle, but if you wanted to talk, I would have talked. I love talking about me! ha-ha
I politely turned him down and of course it became awkward turtle extreme. I will say this to my defense, if this was any guy at all at a bar or in a normal social setting where my roommate was involved, I would have turned them down too. I just can’t comprehend this in my brain. Why is it always the guys you don’t have interest in ask you for your number or hit on you or shake their broom in your general direction. Where are you dreamsicle mancake? I don’t want to sound like a judgmental asshole, but really, I have no qualms with you being a janitor, I’m just not interested. As I walked out of the supermarket, all hot and sweaty from running and screaming wildly in my mind, I proceeded to find my roommate already checked out wondering where I WAS?? REALLY??? REALY?? WHERE WERE YOU 10 minutes ago when I needed a safety net or at the very least a good scare like you used to do to all the boys at grade school dances who would not leave room for the holy spirit. Don’t worry, I gave my roommate an ear full on the 2 minute car ride home about supermarket protocol and the art of dating in the dairy aisle.
This is my life. My own personal circle of life. Except in this scenario, I feel like a Warthog/Pumba being oogled by Hyenas. Pumba wants no parts of the Hyenas. Pumba wants a fellow Warthog to hakuna matata/bink with. damnit. Now I have the song in my head. Til next time…be aware of the Dairy aisle.
