I Say Tomato

I'm frequently approached by loquacious individuals--specifically, gentlemen-- in the grocery store, as well as senior citizens, however the latter is a tale for another time. I'm not entirely sure why men--particularly middle-aged men--find the need to speak to me. Actually I have my suspicions--a gut instinct-- and they range from the very benign and friendly to the dangerously sociopathic; today the gentlemen registered somewhere in the middle.

The Particulars:

I needed two vine ripe tomatoes and so I began to do what I always do: fondle the produce. Produce needs to be handled so as to ascertain its quality and shelf life. And so I aggressively handled the tomatoes. I tried to do so generically, as I was already aware of his eyes upon me and I could feel--I could tell--that he was being more than an impartial spectator to my handling. Suddenly I was a general practitioner there to conduct a physical; I could feel it: I could hear him thinking it. He was ogling me as I went about my business and he made me extremely uncomfortable; it's a female instinct that just cannot be explained unless you've experienced it; and some women don't even have this instinct to rely upon. Some argue that to be ogled should be flattering, however it's not flattering, it's disgusting. There's a definitive difference between admiring and ogling and you know it when you feel it.

Now I'm a chatty individual and I have no problem with making eye contact and idle chit-chat in a grocery store; in fact, it can be rather pleasant to embrace the camaraderie a grocery store may have to offer. And so it would be a rarity for me to act a snob, however my gut instinct has always served me well and so when it goes into Defcon 5 I tend to listen to it and thus appear arrogant and snobbish. It's self-preservation.

And then he said it:

-What does one look for in a tomato?

Ugh. Really? Where's your wife (there's always a wife or significant other looming about, electively ignorant) and why are you just standing guard next to the tomatoes like a creep in the bushes? And what's with the salmon colored golf pants? Seriously, isn't there an online porn account that needs tending?

Now my answer is firmness- I look for firmness in a tomato, but there was no way in Hell I was going to respond with that little nugget of information given the guy was already visually and now audibly breaching my personal boundaries. And so I answered: color, I look for color.

Lie.

What I wanted to say was: piss off, freak. But I didn't. Instead, I collected my fruit, which had barely been inspected properly and quickly made my way over to the bananas. Yes, the bananas.

Thankfully he didn't follow me, as I managed to shoot him just enough stink-eye so as to say: piss off, freak.

jenji

I Have No Idea What It Means

I had a very detailed and vivid dream last night.

The particulars:

I was working concession at a movie theater (of course I was) and my manager was President Obama. And so whilst going about my shift Mrs. Obama came into the theater to discuss finances with her husband. Specifically, they were standing at the counter perusing the record of their dividend profits or in this case, significant losses.

President Obama remarks: We've lost so much this year, how are we going to afford underpants?

Wherein jenji, the harbinger of humor and levity remarks: There's no rule that says that the Commander and Chief can't go out and about in a state of commando.

Mrs. Obama was quite amused, wherein Mr. Obama just gave me an odd look and so I said:

I'm just sayin Mr. President, they're only undapants.

I actually woke up laughing at the absurdity.

jenji