I'm a Wal-Mart shopper. I love it there. Something about Wal-Mart is magical--you stop in for a loaf of bread and bar soap and walk out with a DVD player, a jumbo pack of gum, a new wallet, pajamas, a movie poster, and an engagement ring. That doesn't happen at Publix or Winn-Dixie!
Anyway, I'm browsing through the snack aisle looking to pick up chips for my little brother (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) when a gentleman in his mid- to late-forties asked me--in Spanish--if I needed help. I'm thinking, "Need help with what? Picking up a tube of Pringles?" I kindly responded with a "No, thank you" and was getting ready to walk away, because I knew where this was going, when he asked me where I'm from. -_-
I can imagine his next question being, "So...do you come here often?" I told him I was from Cuba, and he told me I had a pretty accent. [Remember, this entire conversation is in Spanish] It was getting to be a little too much and he was moving closer to me, which was when I said goodbye, lugged my thirty-pound cart away and walked into the next aisle as quickly as I could.
When I finished checking out and went to the exit, the sixty-something year-old man checking the receipts told me the color I was wearing, a hot pink, used to be the color of royalty, and that I look like a queen. *barf* Another something else about being beautiful and hoping to see me again and I was gone. You may ask what's wrong with that, and may even say it's nice of a man to say that to a young woman. There's a very thick line between nice and creepy, and both men in their own ways crossed that line. I guess it was one of those you-had-to-be-there moments, but I felt uncomfortable.
I'm totally not bragging about being hit on here. I'm trying to share a little moral that I'm sure many other young women can agree with: men need to think before they hit-on, especially when they try hitting on a girl who is so evidently younger than he. Chip aisle guy, you're old enough to be my dad. I don't know how fond you would be of another man your age trying to hit on your daughter. Receipt-checker man, you're old enough to be my grandfather. Would you hit on your granddaughter's friend, or want a man your age hitting on your granddaughter? My grandfather would run after you and...I don't know, hit you with his seven-attachment switchblade.
On the car ride home I stopped at a red light and unfortunately caught sight of the elderly gentleman in the car next to me picking his nose. He was going in there. Like, really in there. He didn't just pick for a few seconds to try to take a little gook out and stop before someone saw him. He didn't even try to pull the nose-picking trick where your index finger goes outside the nostril and your thumb goes discreetly inside [don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about]. He was digging for treasure. He went so far in I thought a piece of brain was going to end up under his nail. It was gross. What is it about cars that make people want to pick their nose in them? The world may never know.
Another funny thing that happens in cars: people singing. It's not just lip-syncing to whatever is on the radio; I'm talking about full-on putting on a show in your car--air microphone, hair whipping, strange facial expressions, beating on your steering wheel, maybe even booty-dancing in your seat. Yes, we can see all that. And it's hilarious. Leaving school one day, I looked in my rear-view mirror while stopped at a red light and saw a young guy belting Rihanna's new song, S&M. Yes, he had the air mic, the exaggerated enunciations, and the hair-whipping. How did I know it was this song he was crooning to? I was listening to it on the radio and singing along, too.
Today, while on my way home, I was stopped at yet another red light and saw a girl who could not have been any older than 11 singing along to Rihanna's S&M as well. How did I know? Yeah, I was listening to it again. Y100 plays it a lot. This time it was the remix, though. With Britney Spears. I [kinda] like it, like it. Okay, I'm done. So this girl was jamming to the song and was really into it--like chains and whips genuinely excite her--and the lady driving, I'm thinking it was her grandmother, was looking at the radio with a disgusted and horrified look on her face. She looked at the radio, her mouth agape, looked at her granddaughter, and back at the radio with her grossed-out face. It was amazing. Hilarious. It made my day. Although something about 11 year-olds singing along to Rihanna's kink fest is strange. I'm nineteen and am still asking myself, "Can they really play that on the radio?!"
