Like the time I was making a hurried trip through the grocery store, primarily to pick up a 25 pound bag of organic carrots for my latest and greatest health kick--juicing.
So like.. out of nowhere I hear this male voice,
"You must be going to juice those carrots."
Why? Just because it says in big letters on the bag organic carrots for juicing..?
Me: "yeah, actually I am. It's a good deal. Twenty five pounds for only $17.99"
I seem to think that the ONLY reason people talk to other people in the grocery store is for finding good deals and exploring nutritional information in the most efficient manner. And being the introvert that I am, I waste no time telling perfect strangers my exact preference on every brand, quantity and deal in the store. And yada yada yada... generally naive.
Him: "Oh, I think everyone who is into health food goes through a juicing phase. Have you been into this for a while?"
By this time I actually looked at him. O.K. so the dude wanted to talk. When I looked at him, the only thing I could think of is "Hey, hey we're the monkeys" and did he save the bowl that he used to shape his haircut around?
Me, chuckling: "Oh, so after this phase, what comes next? " I always need to know what impending doom awaits me. Are my insides going to reject organic carrots entirely and I'll be relegated to beets? or worse broccoli rabe? GAH... tell me the truth NOW before is DIE..
Him: With a flip of his greying bowl orbit and a swagger in the too-tight 80's style jeans, "I've pretty much done it all. Every health food phase there is.. (I tuned it out).... I used to drink an entire bottle of Jack Daniels in the night and get up and run five miles in the morning"
Am I supposed to be impressed? with his running? his ability to imbibe? or his decision to quit? I suppose this is a great pick-up line that works equally well with the athletes, party types or the prudes. But at the time, I still thought we were talking about food.
Me: "Wow, that must have been hard on your body." How do I shake this spinning orbit alcoholic turned health food fanatic? "Have you ever had a green smoothie?" My closest encounter with health food is my infamous green smoothie phase, which lasted three weeks.
Him: (swagger, flip) "Oh, I have one up on you now. " Huh? What could possibly be better than a green smoothie????? (shift to left foot, confidently)
"I just sit there and eat raw greens right out of the bag."
How could I possibly not be impressed with this?? Pure testosterone, unadulterated macho-dom to the nth degree. Where was this going to end? I had bring this to closure. I was in a hurry, right?
Me: "So are you 100% organic?"
Him: "No one is 100% anything." (flip)
Me: "You're right. You're probably not even 100% human." (invisible high five to no one in particular)
Oh great. Now he thinks that I think he's super human. What am I going to do? I can't win this or shake him. And then I remember. My old standby.
Me: "Besides, with the price of groceries these days, I can hardly afford to feed my FIVE children. I mean they eat.. like all of the time... organic or not. ... blah blah blah.."
Him (no swagger/ not even a flip, hurried, frantic) " Oh.. uh.. you're shopping at the right place then. This is the best place to shop for deals. Nice meeting you. gotta go...."
Wait dude! I have more to tell you!!!!!! Right then I wished I still had one in diapers and one in the oven. I would have chased him around the store telling him about spitting up babies and diaper goo gushing out on you while you were cooking. And even though the food is organic, you are never sure you have sufficiently sanitized the death out of your hands after they've been swishing around a cloth diaper in the toidy.
About 15 minutes later I had this strange thought: do you think he was trying to.. like.... pick me up? Duh..
Uffda. I'm so glad I know the ultimate death nell, and feel comfortable using it.
Now when I go to the organic aisle in the grocery store, I peer around for reformed alcoholics trying to pick up naive middle aged women, and I am prepared and armed with stories.. stories of gore, war, and poop of toddlers.