She wears an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny yellow polka-dot bikini

I don’t understand why people on the checkout line always have to be right up my ass with their purchases.  Nudging me with their shopping carts.  Breathing on the back of my neck.  And as soon as one measly square inch of space opens up on the conveyor belt they rush to start piling on as many things as they can, vertically if they have to until it resembles a Jenga tower.

Really?  Is that somehow going to get you out of the store faster?  You do know there are still two people in front of you on line and you’re still going to have to stand here for six more minutes until they’re finished, right?  Sigh.  These are probably the same people that are burning rubber out of the parking lot because they’re in a big rush to get to the red light.


So I was at the store tonight, and sure enough I could sense somebody shifting back and forth behind me, and out of my peripheral vision I could see someone peeping around me.  Finally there came a nudge in my back.  I turned around.

“Hey, do you mind if I cut in front of you?  I’ve only got this one thing…” this girl asked me.  She held up her hand and dangling from her finger was a hanger with the tiniest bikini I’d ever seen.  And she had the body to wear it.  Wow.  Holy crap.  My jaw dropped open, and I think my eyes might have bugged out of my head a little.

“Uh… yeah, sure.  Go right ahead!” I finally squeaked out.

She laughed and put a hand on my upper arm.  “Oh no, I’m not really in a hurry!  I just wanted to see what you were going to say.  I thought you were going to give me a dirty look or something.”

My brain whirred frantically, struggling to produce a witty response.  I came up with: “Well, I might have given you a dirty look if it was a Monday or something…”  Huh!?  What the hell does that even mean??  However, she thought it was funny.  Strangely enough.

The line was at a standstill at this point, so she looked over and muttered to me, “My God, what is the hold up?”

“Who knows?” I said.  “Maybe they ran out of quarters or something.”

“Ha!  Don’t say that!  You don’t want to jinx us…” she told me.

“Well, usually when I’m on a non-moving line like this it’s because there’s an old lady at the front who’s rummaging in a purse the size of a potato sack trying to find a nickel or her 15% off Rice-A-Roni coupon,” I said.  She thought that was hilarious, and she started gripping my forearm instead.  By this point she wasn’t standing behind me anymore; she was right next to me. Huh?

Finally the line started moving again, and guess what happened when I got to the register?  No quarters.  So I had to stand there and wait for someone to bring them over so I could get my change.  Bikini Girl and I laughed about that, then we bade each other smiley good-nights and I walked out of the store in a daze.

As soon as I was outside on the sidewalk the fresh air hit me and I stopped in my tracks.  I stared unseeing at the parking lot in front of me.  I felt my brain running in overdrive.  That was one of the most bizarre things that’s happened to me in a long time.  What the hell just happened?  What was that all about?  Was she… hitting on me?  Is that possible?  Nah, that’s impossible.  Girls who look like that… don’t even talk to guys like me, let alone hit on them.  Or do they…? 

Nobody else had come out of the store yet, so I turned around and went right back in.  She was gone.  Completely went ghost on me.  Whoa.  I still have no idea what I was going to do or say when I found her, but she was nowhere to be found.  Dammit.  I turned back around and trudged out of the store, my heart hammering wildly in my chest.


Please tell me that I’m just reading way too much into this, as usual.  Please tell me I didn’t just miss the opportunity of a lifetime.

Getting into the Habitat

This weekend I continued my efforts to get off the computer and back into the real world to meet new people.  After tackling swing dancing (which I can’t wait to get back to), I spent today doing something else I’ve long wanted to do: volunteer with Habitat for Humanity.  And it wasn’t just any old volunteer project, it was a wall-raising!  Yes!  Exactly what I wanted to do.

Last month they were sponsoring a Valentine’s Day build for young single professionals, held on the weekend before V-Day, but a monster blizzard forced them to reschedule it for two weeks later.  Unfortunately I couldn’t make the new date.  Oh well.  That would have been perfect for me though – just what I was looking for.  But no matter.

When I arrived at the build site this morning it was pretty much what I expected: mostly middle-aged men with beer guts.  However, there were a few people my age there as well – including a couple of girls – and I introduced myself all around.  Turns out I wasn’t the only person there for the first time.

When I came around to the girls I looked the first one up and down:  designer jeans, overcoat, hat, scarf, nail polish, heels

“You’re a little overdressed for this, aren’t you?” I inquired.

“Oh, I’m just here to see my boyfriend off.”

Boyfriend.  Of course.  And moments later I saw her turn to one of the guys and give him a big sloppy kiss before she flounced away.  I just shook my head.  See him off?  You’d think they were two lovers saying goodbye at the train station before he goes off to war.  I thought it was a little odd, but maybe it’s just me.

Anyway, the head honchos from Habitat were there and before we started work they spoke to us and gave their little spiel about what the organization does and how it works, and then they introduced us to the family whose house it was going to be, and told us that the family would in fact be working alongside us today.  Cool beans.

I found myself occasionally working alongside the other girl that was there and we exchanged a bit of small talk now and then.  At one point I happened to glance behind me.  Whoa.  I leaned my head in towards hers and said, “whatever you do, don’t turn around.”

“Huh?  Why – ?” she asked, turning around.  “Oh God…”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I said.  “Some people here are suffering from PACS.”

“PACS?” she shot me a quizzical look.

“Plumber’s Ass-Crack Syndrome,” I replied simply.  She burst out laughing.  I grinned.  “Either that or they all bought their pants at The Gap,” I continued.  Now she was in a full-on fit of hysterical giggling.  Geez.  I didn’t think it was that funny.

Later on we met again at another part of the house and I asked, “did you say this was your first time volunteering?”

“No,” she said, “I’ve worked with Habitat three or four times before.  I’d like to get my boyfriend to come with me but he’s always busy.”

Boyfriend.  Of course.

So after that I was able to relax once I found out she wasn’t single.  I always find it much easier to talk to girls then.  But never mind that – today I was more interested in the work we were doing for this family.  In between our short chats and banter I also got to work alongside some of the other men, including the foreman and the various family members who were helping us erect their house.  It was very interesting talking to each person and finding out how they got involved in Habitat.

Then before I knew it, we had the whole frame of the house up.  And then everybody was gone.  I couldn’t believe how fast the day went.  But what a great feeling!  I can’t wait to do this again.