Saturday we went to Costco, as a family, because clearly we have lost our ever-lovin minds. It was ridiculously crowded and I was bordering on the edge of a panic attack, feeling like a caged animal, within the first 20 minutes of being in the store. I totally hate when I can’t get to a clear spot and feel like no matter where I go, I am in someone else’s way. I hate feeling rushed when I am trying to make my purchases because someone else is breathing down my neck the whole time. Also, I hate that no one in the world seems to have any freaking manners and is also apparently BLIND. ANYWAY, we finally got out of the main madhouse (the front-ish area) and I started to calm down a bit and get into my shopping rhythm, when we entered the meat section. And there we happened upon a dirty old man.
Dirty old men LOVE ME. Disgusting but true fact that has been true my whole life since puberty. Which, really? It’s not like I have Pamela Anderson’s rack or matching hair color from a bottle or anything. Bleah. At any rate, I didn’t know he was a dirty old man when I smiled at him. I thought he was just a harmless old man who happened to be in my way and so I smiled. Wrong move. I could tell by the way he stared that I shouldn’t have done that, but it wasn’t until much later, at home, when Wills told me what he did as I passed him, that I truly realized the error of my ways. Mind you, Sprog was walking next to me when this took place. According to Wills as I passed the man, he checked out my ass AND THEN LICKED HIS LIPS. *GAG* I totally wanted a shower when he told me that.
It reminds me of the time when I was again shopping with Sprog and a man ON A FREAKING OXYGEN TANK asked me for my phone number.
