Too Young To Get Married

She was one of those young women that get overlooked at first glance: a short and skinny mid-40's housewife, she was 108lbs. of nothing special. Then I looked again.

The diminutive clothing was part-uniform and part-tactical camouflage. Her body wasn't "short and skinny", it was petite and lean. Maintained by either a high metabolism or Sensei-level StairMaster-ing she'd somehow managed to fight off the tricks of nature to retain her fighting form from high school.

She hid the good stuff under a blue apron the grocery required. Her lime green polo underneath it hung loose enough to disguise the bustline, but not the waistline. It was tucked into jeans that hung carefully on her soft, womanly hips but spread too far to reveal anything else. Looking at her sent my mind spinning around hints and allegory, pouring over all her physical details such as to stir fantasies about what she does when that blue apron hits the floor.

I'm lazy so I go grocery shopping every week. Unlike most people who seem to enjoy lugging hundreds of grocery bags into their homes once a month, I prefer to get it done with two or three bags once a week. I'd been at work, but I had some time still before I had to be on air. The grocery store was just across the street and I'd finished all my pre-air responsibilities. Off I went.

I was done in five minutes: Cabbage rolls, Mexican rice, fruits, chicken, soap, toothpaste, and I was walking up to the front to check out. She was waiting for me, all smiles. While she scanned my goods...wow...yeah, while she scanned my goods we spoke general pleasantries.

I wear one silver ring on the middle finger of each hand. I don't know why, but for whatever reason my mind insisted on it one day several years ago and I bought them.

"Oh, on your MIDDLE fingers. Ok. I thought you looked too young to be married!"

*Huh?*

"Ah! Heh heh, thanks!"

She spotted 'em while I was signing the credit card slip. I should have taken it as a compliment, but I couldn't. On the way back to my car I found reason after reason to discredit any favorable intent:

1) Calm down, everybody's nice in that grocery store.
2) Dude, you know she's probably half-blind, right?
3) Did you check behind you? Who knows who was there?
4) Probably a manager. Crowd was kinda thin. Maybe she's trying to increase return customership?
5) Maybe she knows I'm on the radio? I AM a celebrity now.
6) Did you look close? Maybe she had the crazy eyes?
7) Three words: New. Baby. Daddy.
8) You're three times her size. She was probably terrified!
9) Maybe her credit's bad and she needs a co-signer on a new car/new house/new implants?...

It went on and on. Odd thing is, I'm confident in myself and how I look. So why discredit her statement? Why would I care enough to spend so much mental doing so? Plus...I AM a celebrity. Shux, I'm hovering around local superstar now. Why get so peppered over a statement someone said in passing?

What bothers me most though is that I missed out on a PRIME flirting opportunity. Usually it takes some doing to turn my Flirt Switch to the "OFF" position, but somehow this cute little dame caught me without my Juju-Mooshoo. For that I am MOST ashamed.

So...I'm going back next week. Same time. Same place. I'm always good for an adventure.