Attention Shoppers:

The next time you’re surfing the aisles for a Blue Light Special or just standing in line at the Deli Counter, be forewarned:

You Are Being Watched.

I’m not talking about the discreet cameras above you, I’m referring to…me.

No shopper is safe when we are under the same roof. I have come across some of the most fascinating people who also happened to repel me at the same time in some cases. Others have left me guessing and fantasizing about their lives.

And that’s how the plots just seem to form like vapor on the windows when I’ve been running the humidifier too long and too high – just like my imagination.

There was the time I was standing in the frozen food aisle looking for some dinners for my husband (I had some evening meetings coming up and I prefer not to hear him bitch and moan about starving to death) and the spot I needed was monopolized by a woman who kept looking in hoped the boxes she was scrounging through would magically change. They did not.  I asked if I could help her find something. She was looking for a particular type of chicken breast dinner.  I was able to find not one, but two. She only wanted one. It happened to be on the top shelf. She was shorten than me, and I managed to do a minor gymnastic move to claim them for her. I finally got a good look at her when I gave her the singular boxed dinner. She was elderly (80 as it turned out) but still bleached her hair, dressed in a black leather motorcycle jacket and black stretchy pants, a gold lame top and black Keds. She didn’t leave home without her black eyeliner or lipstick. She proceeded to tell me her life’s story for the next half hour. An act of kindness led to another, because I offered to help. Her story was an example of remembering to be thankful for what and who I have in my life. Beware the daughter who claimed to have turned a new leaf. Your jewelry may go missing one day.

But the time that still resonates with me after ten years – and they are going in a book – I just need a few more characters to compliment these “ladies” as I use the term very loosely, is the mother and daughters I wound being behind several times in the course of an hour at the grocery store. For a long time I thought it only a mother and one daughter. The daughter would pick up an item, make a snarky comment and the mother would laugh and giggle like this bottle blonde teen goddess of her womb was perfection personified. I would have barfed but my stomach was empty – I know, not a wise thing to do when grocery shopping. It wasn’t until I got behind them at the check out, with my overburdened cart, did I realize there was another daughter. This daughter (a brunette) didn’t stay close. In fact, she bought a small bag of chips in the express lane and they proceeded to heckle her from afar, calling her “fattie” even. By the time they left, the checkout girl and I were seething.

You ladies will be in one of my books, and it will not be flattering nor will be an honor. I’m pretty certain if you read my blog (I’m sure you don’t), you wouldn’t even know it was you I was talking about because… (hit that chord)…you’re so vain.