The Last Cordwainer

I went grocery shopping the other day because well, we needed milk and food and crap. Okay, not really crap crap, but veggies and pasta type crap. You get the idea.

But I digress....

I walk into the store and I am immediately in the veggie section of the big multi-cultural grocery store. I grab a cart and start walking around hoping my brain will kick in and remind me of what we need since I left the grocery list on the table.
I get some apples, a pomegranate and as I round the end corner near the banana section, there are two Arabic gentlemen talking. The younger one has a child in his cart about 18 months to 2 years old. The kid, not the cart. Of course I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but it sounded like they were saying their goodbyes after a happenstance meeting at the store. I don't know. Hell, they could have been plotting to overthrow the vegetable section? What do I know, anyway....

As I pass by the gentlemen, the younger one with the kid in the cart smiles at me. I proffer a polite half-smile and continue to the lettuce and cabbage section.

The Arabic guy comes around the corner headed towards me. I say nothing and continue to check out the heads of edible shubbery.

I get to the discounted bin (hey- I found a package of 8 green peppers for $1.78!!) and as I go around the bin, the Arabic gentlemen says something that sounds clearly like, 'Looking good today.'

I thought he was talking about the vegetables.

So I ignore the comment and continue on, through the deli section, the bread section, down the olive oil isle and voila! There he is again, coming up the isle I am going down.

And I see him again in the pasta isle.

And again in the Hispanic isle.

I thought...we must just be shopping in opposite directions...except his cart didn't look like it was filling up with anything.

Then I get to the Oriental section and I am now wearing my glasses trying to read the darn little bottles of chinese writing (why do they keep making the print so small???) when I look up and I see the Arabic man smiling at me and actually turning his head to keep an eye on me as he walks past.

I text Grau, 'I'm at the grocery store. You need anything? Oh yeah, there's an Arabic man smiling at me and following me through the store...'

And I get the response,' Clearly I need to help him meet Allah, and just head to the pork section....'

(giggle)

I love that man!

And suddenly, I didn't see the Arabic man anymore.

What's up with that? I mean, I am not particularly pretty. And I sure as hell am not skinny. Nor am I rich or anything else that would attract a young, good-looking, tan-skinned guy.

But creepers? Yeah, I get those a lot.

I once had a black man do a back-flip in a bar to impress me- Not realizing my husband was two seats over. *That* didn't go over well. LOL Although it *was* funny as hell.  And what an opening impression, no? That man was a sweetie, and clearly had a great opening line...

So again, I wonder, maybe it's my *sparkling* personality?