That guy again

Long-time readers know this person. Some may have read the title and known right away who this post would be about. (If you did, let me know in the comments. Now I’m curious.)

I was doing a free gym trial, figuring it would be a good way to rebuild leg muscle, when I ran into an old friend.

At long last, the face behind the legend. I’m surprised I got him to smile for you, but I suspect he enjoys an audience.

I hadn’t seen the Chex Mix Guy in more than a year. He was smaller than I remembered, in every way.

Gone was the cheerful, funny man who brought us twelve posts-worth of entertainment. Heartbreak had made him cynical, filled with career ambition and little else.

One thing I’ll note for my future self: When I told him about falling to the bottom in my martial arts classes, he said, “That gives you a goal to aim for. Work your way back to the top.” That was thoughtful of him.

When we were through catching up, he grabbed his phone to choose the next song for his air buds. I took two steps and turned back around.

“This is weird,” I said.

“What is?”

“This is the last time I will ever see or speak to you.”

Miscellaneous pictures and a tragic sale

The anatomy of a Star Wars AT-AT Walker t-shirt

A man in a parking lot complimented Hubby on this t-shirt. I stepped back out of the car to say, “I got him that shirt!”

The man looked at Hubby and said, “Hold her close.”

Sparring gear in my trunk. It just makes me happy.

My Neighbor and the CMG. Again.

I may have pulled off an excellent prank. But I’ll likely never know.

Neighbor asked what I wanted to do for my birthday. I suggested we get coffee and do our usual shopping trips. She responded “YES! and YES!” That alone wins her the title of my favorite person ever. Actually, just asking what I wanted to do on my birthday was enough. But it got even better.

We first arranged to go to brunch with another friend. Neighbor picked me up, which is sort of funny, since we’re two houses apart, but then I saw the side of her car.

So THIS happened.

I walked inside from the garage and called to my son, “Oh, Joooo-sepppphhh.”

“Yes?”

“Who’s you’re favorite moooo-mmmyyyy?”

His response, I kid you not: “Is it Chex Mix?”

First of all, no, he does not think CM is his mommy. He just surmised (as a four-year-old!) that I had gone to the store and bought him CM. I didn’t tell anyone I was going to the store. This child is just that good at sniffing the stuff out.

That and he’s been asking for it for days, to the point where, last night, after tucking him in bed, Hubby says to me, “Joe asked for Chex Mix again. You should probably pick some up.”

Finally I did. He’s lucky it was on sale, because you know that’s how I roll. So, in response to the above question from Joe, I laughed and said, “Yes!” more out of amazement that he guessed the reason for the sing-song voice than out of excitement for having the stuff in my home again.

I have clearly passed the CM torch onto my son.

He said, “Could you bring me a bowl?” But as I had other groceries to put away and did not bring him a bowl of the golden deliciousness in less than 60 seconds, he came to get it himself.

If only I could get him that excited about bed time.

Can’t talk. Eating Cheddar Chex Mix.

The last time I brought CM home, he saw the bag on the counter, grabbed it, and literally tried to tear it open with his teeth.

Monster officially created.

That time, btw, was when I had gone to that other store where I’d seen new flavors. I had asked your advice. Remember these?

Back by popular demand

Many of you were disheartened by the thought of never again hearing stories of the Chex Mix Guy (CMG). Your comments on that last post were quite entertaining and endearing. For instance:

“I can’t believe this ends the Tale of the CMG! Sequel? prequel??”

“Oh, no! This can’t be the end! It can’t!”

“He’ll miss you. One day he will wake up and wonder ‘What ever happened to Crazy Chex Mix Lady?’”

And of course my favorite: “Who wouldn’t miss CCML??”

Happy Chex Mix

Since I hate to let you down, this happened… (Just remember that I do all of this for you, my dear Blog Buddies.)

Last week I loaded my cart, and, surprised to see CMG slumming it at the check stands with lowly riffraff customers, rather than in his ivory managerial tower, I headed to his lane. It was the express lane. There wasn’t an overtly posted sign about the item limit, though I knew whatever the limit was, I was over it.

I didn’t care. Normally I would care, but with this guy, I didn’t care.

The Chex Mix meets its end

I recently started taking Chex Mix with me to parties–a sure fire way of being invited back. Since there were a lot of parties for the holidays, I ran out and hit my local store to replenish my supplies. The Chex Mix Guy (CMG) had ordered a box of both Cheddar and Honey Nut for me back in October, housing them in his office, while I slowly chipped away at them.

Crying Chex Mix

Amidst the regular shopping I did first, I glanced down at the Chex Mix shelf and saw, amongst the black and blue of Bold and Boring (aka Traditional) the golden hues of my sacred flavors.

Betrayal!

I marched to the customer service desk and asked the lady to call CMG’s office. She got him on the phone and relayed the message: “A customer wants to know if you put out all of her Chex Mix.”

Here I’m grinning stupidly, thinking this must be one of the most bizarre statements this woman has ever made. That, and I’m imagining what CMG’s reaction must be.

After a pause, she says, “Okay,” hangs up, and tells me, “He’ll be right down.”

I know you’ve missed him.

Just like last time, the grocery store check-out line got long once I entered it, so Chex Mix Guy was called from what I assume is referred to as “the back” (even though it’s near the front of the store).

I watched him push through the doorway that separates the riffraff from the employee-only Cave of Wonders and scurry toward the check stands. When he looked up and saw me smiling, he hung his head and shook it.

“You’re always causing me trouble,” he said.

Here I had two options for how to respond. See if you can guess which I chose:

A. “I’m sorry. Just bad timing, I guess. I hope you weren’t in the middle of something important.”

or

B. Roll my index fingers around one another in a wide arc like a spinning hamster wheel and say, “Rapido! Rapido!”

The last time I was at this store, so were the cops. Apparently shortly before I arrived, someone couldn’t be bothered with the whole check-out process and simply walked out with a basket full of expensive liquor. CM Guy was off to the side speaking with the police. I guess not even cops warrant passage to the mystical magical “back.”

Mibryant of pixabay.com was kind enough to take this photo of my liquor cabinet to illustrate this blog post.

So on this visit, I, “Crazy Chex Mix Lady,” had my line all ready to go should I get the opportunity to speak with CM Guy.

“I saw the cops here last week,” I began.

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.”

“You again.”

“You again,” the Chex Mix Guy said with a smile. “Is there a sale on I don’t know about?” (If you missed it, you can read the first installment of the Chex Mix Guy saga here.)

I gestured toward my few non-Chex Mix items displayed on the conveyor belt before him. “You’d know it if there were.” He’d already scanned my, ahem, two cartons of ice cream.

“What you got last time should last you a few months.”

“I don’t know about months,” I said. “Maybe weeks.”

He nodded his agreement.

“Did you read the latest post about you?”

“Yes, but what about from the last time you were here?” he said.

“I was going to, but I thought people might be getting tired of these stories.”

“There should be a post every time you come,” he said.

So, in compliance with my enabler supplier, that’s what happened yesterday. The time before that, when I arrived at the store on the appointed day–the day highlighted and circled several times on my calendar–the day, you guessed, that my special shipment of Rain Check Cheddar Chex Mix was due to arrive, I first headed to the produce section to pick up some plums. (See, I can buy healthy stuff too.)

Someone scurried past me. I turned to look.

The saga continues

I’m talking about, you guessed it, Chex Mix.

The sale was even better this week: 88c instead of the usual 99. (Girlfriend loves a bargain.) So I trotted my way to the appropriate aisle, and lo and behold–empty, as in, M-T. Not even a straggler hiding at the back of the shelf. You know I checked.

I bought my other items and headed for the check out line. As fate would have it, the only non-express lane was manned by none other than The CM Guy.

“I’d like to lodge a complaint with the manager,”