On grocery clerks and birthdays

Have any of you made friends with the staff at your local grocery store? (If you have, tell me in the comments. I’d love to hear about it.) The meat guy at one place always says hi and makes small talk. One of the check-stand ladies in the same store calls me “girlfriend” or “little momma.”

Remember this guy? Exhibit A: Boy

Another lady, when I was pregnant with Joe, said that she was telling her daughter, “You know the lady with three girls, two are redheads? She’s having a BOY!” Not only are we chummy, she talks about me to her daughter—wild.

Then, of course, there’s the CM Guy, who can’t seem to be rid of me. On my last visit to his store, there were two lanes open—neither manned by him. But, since both lines were backed up, the checker in my lane picked up her phone and called, “Check stand help,” or something.

A minute later, scurry scurry—because that is the only word that accurately describes the CM Guy’s speedy and purposeful walk. The man takes his job seriously.

So he scurries past the bagging side of the check stands, lifts and arm to point, and says, “I can take the next customer over here.”

Since I, as fate would have it, was the next customer, I moved over, saying, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“For you, yes. At least, that’s what I’ll say to your face.”

Chuckle.

“You want to hear something crazy?” I say, as I load my items onto the conveyor belt. I’m not looking at him, but I can tell he’s standing there like, “You need to ask?” So I add, “Other than me?”

“You knew where my mind was going with that.”

Double chuckle.

“I had to look up on my blog when that first Chex Mix thing happened so I could link it in my latest post, and, do you know how long ago that was?”

“Was it a year already?”

He was way better at this game than I expected.

“Yes! Can you believe it? It’s been a whole year.”

Apparently, he could. Still, to me, that seemed crazy. Well, you know, even for me.

And this time, when I was in the produce section, I looked harder for bags by the fruit and found them. I swear they were hiding before. I grabbed a bag each of purple and green grapes for the game night I hosted Saturday in honor of my birthday tomorrow. I won’t tell you how old I’m turning. I’ll just heave a heavy sigh and let you draw your own conclusions.

Some friends couldn’t make it this past Saturday, so my fabulous husband merely suggested we host another one this coming Saturday. You only turn, uh, “35” once, right?

A cake with a boat load of candles, compliments of pixabay.com. You don’t need to count them. Just rest assured that it’s, uh, pretty accurate.

If I don’t find another good price on grapes, which sat alongside our standard chips and salsa and cheese and crackers, I may have to bust into my coveted Chex Mix stash. Or I could just splurge on non-sale price grapes. People like to have a healthy alternative, right?

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

Have a great week! 🙂