I’m still painting! Which means we’re still living in a mess, but since Rich got the window in last night, we no longer look like we live in a meth lab.
So that’s good, right?
And now - a horror story.
I took Faith to Sam’s Club the other night because she had babysitting money and wanted to buy a four-pack of eos lip gloss which is apparently the most exciting thing in the world. She was so excited that as we walked through the parking lot and into the store, she was singing songs from the “Frozen” soundtrack. Loudly.
I pointed out a couple of times that we were in public, but that did not phase her a bit. She was a regular little songbird. She finally piped down as we were walking through the store, and an overly friendly man stepped out from behind a table and bounded over, stopping just a little too far into my personal space.
“Hey!” he bellowed, “Your hands look cold! You should try this!”
And then he shoved a blobby, flesh colored thing at me. I took a step back and smiled stiffly, “no thank you!”
“No really! It’s a hand warmer!” he continued to bellow as he tossed the pouch from one hand to another. “It’s great! Try it!
In .8 seconds, the following flashed through my mind:
- I don’t want to touch that thing. I don’t know where his hands have been.
- Come to think of it, I don’t know how many other people have handled it or where any of their hands have been.
I managed to verbally supress all of these thoughts as I took another step back. “No. No thank you.”
The man lost a little of his sparkle and got a tad bit insistent.”Come on!” he insisted, “You don’t have to buy it, just hold it.”
And then he held it up between two fingers and jiggled it in my face. At that point, my edit button got lost and I blurted, “No! I’m a germaphobe.” Handwarmer Guy promptly took two large steps back from me as if I were somehow contagious, mumbled something under his breath and took refuge back behind his table.
Faith just about left me right then and there.
Because singing Disney songs at full volume in the middle of Sam’s Club is not embarrassing, but rebuffing a creepy hand warmer pusher is.