We were out of yogurt. That meant I had two options: go to the store then, right after I had woken up from an evening nap to enjoy a few hours of alone time with Jordon, or go tomorrow. If I went tomorrow that meant the boys would be out of their favorite breakfast which would only go over well if I replaced it with something labor intensive, like pancakes.
Store it was.
I didn't bother to re-apply my makeup, not that it would have mattered. I don't think any amount of foundation could have ridden me of the deep couch indents spread across my cheek.
After arriving at my destination I caught eyes with a stranger across the store. I smiled politely, as I always do when accidentally making eye contact, and continued on my way. I could feel him still looking at me. Maybe he knew me. Maybe we went to school together or he was a customer at the bank I used to work at.
As I wandered the store, I happened upon the bakery, mentally battling with myself on to cookie or not to cookie. They make THE best cookies here. I felt the stranger paralleling my every move 20 feet away. Finally he approached me. He didn't even bother to glance at the cookies before commenting on how good they looked.
I was too nice.
I actually indulged the stranger, commenting on which ones were my favorite and how to pick the best batch. (Crispy on the outside, doughy on the inside.) He kept inching closer. Finally he made his move.
"They have good croissants too. Wanna try some with me one morning?"
Did he just... hit on me? I don't think I have been hit on once in the last five years. Granted, I have only left my house sans kids a handful of times since Braedon was born.
I made some comment about how I hated pastries and just walked away. I REALLY wanted those cookies, too, but I was too afraid to turn around. I felt like he was following me, waiting for second chance at small talk. When did I become so timid? I am no stranger to the cheesiness that is a desperate man. And he wasn't creepy or ugly. He was just awkward. Who hits on girls at the grocery store? I wouldn't have been surprised if he was part of one of those life coach reality shows where a set of instructions are given on how to come out of your shell, and one of the tasks is to approach a girl at the grocery store.
I scanned the aisles for cameras.
There was something unsettling about the entire encounter. I still can't put my finger on it. Is that I am just out of practice? Have I become old and intolerant? Do I feel unattractive, thus shying away from any type of positive attention?
More likely the pit in my stomach the whole ride home was from the most painful of truths. I never got my cookies.
Moms: When was the last time you got hit on by a stranger? What did you do?