I offer my apologies, dear readers, as I was too exhausted last evening to cogitate and type anything of merit. And the coincidence about which I intend to wax 'prosetic' is the reason...
The story begins approximately two and a half short days ago. Traveling home from work, Joseph and I stopped at Costco. A 4-pack of candles. Cream cheese for bagels. Processed meat for sandwiches. It was a quick stop for necessities as we had to get to our friend's home for an informational session regarding the Breast Cancer 3-Day.
We sidled up to an empty checkout line when a short, auburn-haired woman of about 40 slipped over carrying a box of dog bones. 'Do you mind if I go in front of you?' she asked Joseph. 'Yes,' he replied. His back was to me, so I couldn't tell if he was being serious. I couldn't imagine he was. She looked up at him in shock, but not yet in indignation. 'Really?' 'Yes, really.' But Joseph couldn't keep a straight face. 'Yeah, go ahead.'
She put her box on the conveyor belt. Joseph said, 'Wouldn't it have been crazy if I didn't let you go?' She smiled. 'I gotta tell ya. I'd a had to say something. I'm from New York. I don't do this Seattle passive aggressive @#$%.' We chuckled. She related a story. 'I was at work this one time and this guy was being a pussy, so I told him so. He stopped talkin' to me for a while, and I thought nothin of it. Then, one day three weeks later he comes up to me and tells me that I hurt his feelings. What is that @#$% ? Just tell it like it is.' By the time she finished her story, she was checked out and ready to go. 'Alright, take care,' she said. 'You too,' we answered.
'That's my kind of woman,' Joseph told me as we were checking out. 'I'd like to have a beer with her.'
Fast forward to last evening. A pair of generous friends invited us to the Yankees game (what Seattlites might call a Mariners game). I'll be relating the pre-game festivities in another post. As for the game itself, well, the Yanks were no-hit by Morrow into the 8th. And lost. Not much more to say there.
After the game, we said goodbye to our friends and walked down 1st Avenue South keeping pace with the other departing fans. Just past S Massachusetts there was a bar, evidenced by the intoxicated smokers on the sidewalk and the big 'BAR' sign jutting from the building. As we passed, Joseph recognized someone - not an uncommon occurrence. 'It's the Costco lady!' he announced to anyone within earshot. 'I can't believe it's Costco lady.' She immediately remembered us as well. 'I love you guys,' she said rather gushingly. And then she proceeded to announce the fact to the rest of the intoxicated smokers. For the next few minutes, Costco lady and Joseph engaged in an interwoven duet of 'I can't believe it's Costco lady' and 'I love these guys'. It reminded me of a bad musical.
'You have to have a beer with me,' she shrieked. 'Okay,' Joseph agreed. He turned to me, 'Is that okay?' 'Uh sure,' I replied. Just rolling with the punches. 'Manny's?' she asked us. We nodded. We entered the hole-in-the-wall bar - called the Hooverville - and accompanied her to the counter and then to her seat. An empty booth with multiple full drinks sitting atop the table. A few moments later, a tall man, a fat man, and an atheist walked into the bar. What, am I in the midst of a bad joke, I asked myself.
They sat and commenced with a political discussion. The atheist claimed that Sarah Palin was just a smoke screen. 'Two months before the election, she'll get bounced and McCain will pick up Condoleeza Rice for VP. And then they'll win because they can take the black vote. And we'll be @#$% out of luck for another four years.' I didn't have the heart to tell her that we're at two months before election time. Then, she turned her head towards me and Joseph, pointed, and asked 'Are you Christians?' 'Yes,' we each answered. 'Do you know which minority group is most discriminated against in this company?' she continued. We shrugged. 'Atheists!' she yelled. 'Well good luck with Jesus,' she said before turning back to the fat man. The night had definitely taken a turn for the weird.
I listened, thinking myself merely a fly on the wall. Relationships. Politics. Music. Work. Sex. Same old, same old. But with an odd twist, i.e. my involvement through a random dog-bone toting Costco lady. Finally, Joseph turned to me and asked me if I was ready to go. I nodded. We discovered that Costco lady had a name. Hope. She and Joseph traded numbers. And we left. We continued down 1st Avenue South about an hour and a half after we left the field, got in the car, and drove home.
The silver lining of our encounter? No traffic. Oh, and this story...
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