Creeper
Today I ventured to the grocery store to stockpile baby food as though we were anmials hording for the winter. We also needed to gather some necessities for the July 4th weekend (beer, rubbers…ya know the typical picnic items). My 8 month old daughter decided to tag along for the trip in order to get in some peak people-watching.
So there we were, throwing items into the cart left and right and before I knew it we had reached the chip aisle. As I headed in a northernly direction an elderly woman passed right by and said “oh what a cute baby, I just have to see her face”. Now, I’ve come to learn that this is not an uncommon occurrence. My daughter has garnered her fairshare of oooo’s and ahhhh’s; especially from elderly women. I’m probably a little biased, but I think my baby is absolutely adorable, especially when she gives you the toothless grin, so I don’t mind the occasional gloat fest.
As the kind hearted person I am, I slowed my shopping spree and I gave this elderly women the 5 seconds of human interaction that she so desperately craved before heading back home to her 50 cats. Without prompting conversation she quickly blurted out “I’m going to be a great-grandma soon and I’m not too old to pick them up and toss them around”………let that settle for a minute before we proceed to analyze. My grandmother is still alive and I have had the pleasure of giving her great-grandchildren, however, there is not a bone in my body that would just allow her 80 year old frame to toss my fragile baby around.
With another smile we quietly ducked away from this elderly woman and continued on our shopping trip. That is until we met her again in the next aisle over. And then again in the next aisle. She spotted us as though we were prey and I saw her hasten her steps in order to get to us. Once again she said “oh what a cute baby, I just have to see her face”. (Ummmmm….you just saw her not more than 2 minutes ago). Though this time she added “I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture”. This is where things started to get creepy.
I quickly rolled my cart away and down TWO aisle’s to try and avoid the passing effect we seemed to be stuck in. I was able to make it all the way to the household cleaners before she suddenly appeared again; popping up from behind a display of brooms. Once again we received the standard greeting “oh what a cute baby, I just have to see her face”. And the even creepier “I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture.” Now, I’m not condoning taking pictures of random strangers; but Listen Lady, I’m almost wishing you had a camera so you COULD remember that you saw this baby and can stop stalking us. Again the proud mother smile and I took off like a bolt for the baby aisle.
I thought that this would be my saving grace. What elderly woman would need to take a hop, skip, and jump down the baby aisle. I rounded the corner and much to my disbelief she was not standing there waiting with her fangs drawn. Relived, I started to dump plastic Gerber containers into the shopping cart. Fruit, Veggie, oh…I need this fruit. I thought we were finally in the clear until out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. She proceeded to walk by the end of the aisle, stop her cart, purposefully turn around, and come towards us. FOR THE LOVE.
Standard Greeting
Picture taking desire
Creepiness factor of 100.
One time is ok, two is starting to push it, but 5 times!!!!! Listen Lady, I think you might need another cat. Please stop stalking us. We finished our shopping trip ratherly quickly after this and did not linger any longer than 5 milliseconds when picking out the remainder of our items. I watched to make sure we didn’t have a tail on us as we drove home.
Introducing…
JON DOEMATO.
This is my tomato plant for 2009. I get one each year. And then I proceed to name them. I’ve had a Fransicso, Jose, and Pierre. I like to alternate through heritages. It makes me feel as though I’m more cultured and gives the allure that I take tea and biscuits everyday in the sitting room. I really just like to name things though. I’ve never quite figured out why, but I feel as though inanimate objects become more life-like if they possess a human name. Kinda like…transformers in disguise.
This year I could not come up with a name so I suggested Jon Doe. My husband added on the DoeMato and I laughed like a pre-pubescent little boy who had just learned about girl parts. From there it stuck.
Normally, I plant my annual tomato in a special pot that I tend to individually, but the last few years I’ve ended up with tomatos that look shitfaced, so this year I gave up and dug a nice hole in the dirt for Jon. To my shock he sprouted faster than a college frat boy and has even outgrown his dancing cage. Perhaps the winter months where outdoor cats played poop and seek in my garden have done wonders for my plants. Now, can I slice you up a fresh tomato?
don’t forget to…
This is what happens when you marry a man and ask him to do something. Inevitably he will forget and you will have to go to drastic measures to remind him. I’ve been known to stand on my head, recite the declaration of independence with a megaphone, wave around large Christmas Santa’s all while flashing my boobs in order to draw attention to what I need done. More than likely I’ll still end up doing it myself after having given up my dignity.
My latest tactic. 
The names and addresses have been removed to protect the innocent
Garage Sale Tales
Who doesn’t love a good summer day; waking up to the birds chirping and sunlight bursting through your window? With the knowledge that the newspaper awaits on your front porch and the classifieds are chalk full of garage sales galore. And for a fleeting moment you think….it’s going to be a damn good day of junkin’.
In recent weeks I’ve attended many of these garage sales. But please, before you judge my frugality let me explain. My family is not desolate nor do I take pleasure in haggling over used dishware. My husband and I both have well paying jobs that provide our family with health insurance and the ability to live a comfortable lifestyle. Rather, I enjoy going to these garage sales simply because I take pleasure in seeing the junk other people have collected and are attempting to pardon off on an unsuspecting target. What can these folks get rid of now, that 5 years ago was needed for survival or they would have been unable to wake the next morning if they had not purchased that ab-buster RIGHT NOW?
Ever heard that the best way to get to know someone was to go through their trashcan? You can find out the most intimate of details simply by looking at what we consider trash. In a way that garage sale is an open trashcan for everyone to look it. A glimpse into their life and the phases they have passed though. I’m not proud of the “pogs” phase that I entered in my early tween years, but I digress. You could call me a gawker or even think of it as trying to live vicariously through others. I think it’s just my desire to understand people and see how they live. And of course, to find the most ridiculous pieces of junk on earth and take pictures to tickle my fancy. Case and point below:
Question Mark. What the HELL is that? Does anyone know? When it stops scaring you for 5 seconds come back and revisit it. And then ask yourself, why is there a $5 sticker on it?
In one of my more recent trips I visited a lovely two story colonial in a quiet suburban neighborhood and a mother and son were setting some items out for viewing. As I approached I could not help but be drawn into their conversation. The mother was standing at the foot of a table that was housing some sort of sports memorabilia and a few assorted outdoor games. She picked up a box that appeared to hold a bocce set and with the power of a mighty hurricane, she screamed to her son “JEREMY, WHY ON EARTH IS THIS OUT HERE? GO PUT IT BACK WITH THE GOOD JUNK?” Fearing she may start to lob the bocce balls, I immediately halted my approach and took cover under the closet sapling. (I’m prone to concussions so I tend to be cautious around falling objects).
Good junk? As compared to….bad junk or really bad junk? Who gets to designate the difference? Could I find a listing for this type of employment on CareerBuilder? Seriously Lady, GOOD JUNK! What is that? Junk is junk, there is no varying degrees to junk. It’s not like a color spectrum where we have varying shades of the hue red. From now on we’ll need to buy bins and place items into them based on a junk level; good junk, moderately decent junk, really shitty junk.
As I progressed on down the street there was yet another garage sale for my viewing pleasure and as I approached the dwelling I noted a sign taped to the side of the garage door. My initial thought was that this individual was trying to sell a larger ticket item. For example a bedroom set that they had taken pictures of to display for selling. Genius right? Nope, I was wrong. It was a sign marked with large letters “NO RETURNS OR REFUNDS”. What parallel garage sale universe have I slipped into? Does this really have to be called out for garage sales? Is it not typical garage sale etiquette that all sales are final? It’s not like I just walked into my local Wal-mart where I provide my items to the cashier so she can scan the barcodes and provide me with a receipt of my purchases wherein if I need to return one I have documented proof of my purchase. First off, as the homeowner, have you really been in the situation where someone has tried to return an item they purchased from you and to avoid a future re-occurrence you prominently display the “house rules”? Second, who tries to return something they purchased at a garage sale? Perhaps they slept on it that night and thought, “Nope, damnit that .50 cent purchase was not at all what I wanted and I’m going back to demand a refund.” Who knows, maybe they were trying to return good junk.
I thought I would try one more sale before heading back to my abode. I scanned the host of items and seemed to find most of the “regulars”; books, movies, clothes, toys. And then my eyes hit on the back of the garage and naturally I gravitated there. On display in the back of the garage was a stockpile of toiletries ranging from shampoo to deodorant and dish detergent to antibacterial spray. Please note though, these items were not used. They were brand spanking new. As though this humble man had gone up to the local grocery and bought a case of each item to sell. Question mark. I thought the point of garage sales was to sell used items? Now, I frequent the local grocery store also so I’m aware of what the grocer charges for these items and this scam artist had marked up these toiletries by at least 50%. And yet there was some sap standing next to me buying a bottle of Dawn dish soap. Perhaps he will accept coupons though?
I decided to go home after that.