Weird shit always happens at the grocery store or the surrounding shops. Every time I go, something bizare happens to me. It always occurs when I’m alone so no one gets to witness the craziness I experience.
Just some recent examples leading up to yesterday’s parking lot confession are:
-A man wanting to know which salt I thought was the best. I gave him the speil on the latest health reports of sea salt. “But which one do you think is the best?” I discussed how I often bought Morton’s and they did indeed have a Sea Salt. “But do you think it’s the best?” This went on for about five minutes.
-An elderly gentlemen followed me around the baking isle once begging me to make him brownies.
-A mother, in line in front of me, and her teenage daughter, in line behind me, yelled over top of me arguing about if the mom needed to buy the daughter a Dollar General Brand pregnancy test or a Clear Blue pregnancy test. I almost interupted the dispute to tell the teenage girl if she was old enough to get knocked up and buy her own box of Chips A’hoy and six pack of Yoohoo’s, she’s old enough to buy her own pregnancy test.
Yesterday, after I unloaded the groceries into my car, I cut across the parking lot on foot to get some lunch from Subway. A man passed me and then stopped. “Hey, you’re from Cape Charles!”
I turned to the man and he didn’t look super familiar. “I am.”
“Your dad’s was a cop there. Don’t you remember me?”
“Give me a clue.”
“Come on now, you remember me!”
“Need a clue, seriously.”
“We rode the bus together.” He told me his name. Oh dear God, I do remember him.
This guy would write me ‘love poems’ everyday and give them to me on the bus. I was a little weirded out by it, but always politely took them and smiled. Then, he was gone. I guess he moved away. I never paid it much attention.
“Your name is Melanie. You use to have gold hair, right?”
“I did. I’m a redhead these days though.”
“It looks nice! You still look good. You know, ever since I was into you I’ve dated white girls. You changed me. There was something about you and I just wanted to be with white girla since then.”
“Oh, gee. I didn’t realize I was like a gateway drug. Race conversion. That’s nice. Don’t think anyone has ever said that. That’s really kind.”
“Let me ask you something. Do you have someone special in your life?”
Is he trying to convert me to Jehovah’s Witness or is he asking me out? “I do actually have someone special in my life. So special we live together. Just put our groceries in the car now. Super special.”
“Oh, man. See when I saw you out here I thought it was fate. I hadn’t seen you in so long and there you were. I’ve missed my opportunity again!”
“That’s how it goes sometimes, I hear.”
“Melanie, when I see you again, can I ask you a very serious question?”
“Alright!” And he walked away.
I got our lunch and was ready to get home to tell the beau all about today’s weird store event. Back outside and the guy comes towards me. Is today important question day? I thought he meant another day, like when I could have a head start and run across the parking lot.
“Now, Melanie. This is very important. I don’t want to scare you or anything.” Don’t people realize that phrase alone scares people? “We go back right? We’re from Cape Charles, we go back?”
“It’s true. I’m still representin’, we go back.” I nod.
“Don’t be scared, but I just got out of jail.”
“Oh, well that’s just… that’s just… sad.”
“I know, right? See, this is where I messed up. I was dating this black girl. I should have never dated a black girl. And then, I started messing with this white girl on the side.”
“Well, then they found out. And things got ugly. It was a big ole mess. And I got locked up.”
I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’m missing some important detail about how exactly he ended up in jail.
“So, Melanie. Here’s my question to you. I’m just out of jail this week. I was locked up for nine months. I’ve got nowhere to go. I have nowhere to stay.”
Jesus, please don’t ask to stay at my house. I can only imagine me explaining to the beau that there is a homeless convict who use to write me love poems sleeping on the couch.
“So, do you think I could get eight dollars?”
WHAT A RELIEF! “Man, if I had eight dollars I would. Unfortunately, I never carry cash on me. Were from Cape Charles so I would definitely hook you up. No cash though.”
He eyed me a little crooked for a minute and all I could think is the call my beau would get from the emergency room that I had been assaulted by a man screaming, “I thought we were cool! We’re from Cape Charles! Give me eight dollars!”
He then smiled and said, “It’s alright. It was good seeing you.” And he walked away.
I shook my head, “No one is ever going to believe this shit. Every damn time.”