Full disclosure (is there any other kind?). There's a cute boy who works at the grocery store. I usually find myself at his checkout lane every Friday where we conduct small-talk about the weather or weekend plans. A couple of weeks ago he told me he was about to take a personal training exam. Did I mention also fit?
Last week he wasn't there and God help me I noticed. But what happened Friday is when I careened into the territory of humiliating cougar stalker.
As I lugged my cart filled with hundreds of dollars worth of merchandise, shamefully looking for Nicolas (that's what his nametag says), I was shocked to see that he was manning the 8 items or less checkout. Damn. Now at this point, any other normal, happily married woman would have just taken the hit, checked out, gone about her day and waited until next week. But here's where I tell you what you already know. I'm not normal.
I went out to the car with my stuff, dumped it in the trunk then marched right back into that store. I ran to produce, picked up a bag of pre-cut salad and 3 oranges and headed straight to his cash. There we had a 3 minute chat (I only had 2 things, people) about, I don't know... zip-lining or something and I left with a huge smile on my face. Plus 3 oranges. So there is that.
There's no fool like an old fool, obviously. All that's missing is a handbag full of hard candy and a heavy hand at the MAC desk.