Not certain, but I may have been macked on by an old lady at the grocery yesterday.
I try to go at odd times to avoid the rush. Getting buggy-trapped in the center of an aisle is an issue for me. Never hungry and never totally straight, I like to cruise the cart slowly, leisurely like. So I was doing just that, mostly unencumbered by crowds and kids, but it seemed every time I came to a section where I was actually going to pick something up, there was someone standing directly in the way of the item I longed for. As if in a bad dream, I was so close but yet so far, as some woman slower yet than myself stood for minutes straight, pinky finger in corner of mouth like Dr. Evil, staring at the actually rather sparse selection, unable to make a call and move on.
So, I needed bread crumbs you see, but equal parts stupid and stoned, couldn't locate the bread crumb aisle. It was my last item; I'd been in there an hour and a half already and started remembering the world and my life out there. I was, after all, hoping to exit before the sun set. From the far end, I spotted them, Progresso Italian crumbs, and some other types. In big picture consideration, I would have grabbed any of them and fled to check out, if an old lady hadn't ducked into my aisle from the other end, and beat me to them.
There she parked, only other person besides me in the lane, di-freaking-rectly in my way, doing the slow ogle. A lady of quality and class, maybe, wearing the skin of some poor furry creature over her shoulders, she reminded me of Lovey from Gilligan's Island. Mrs. Thurston Howell III esq.. Not that I was staring, but that was the image that came to mind, mind you. I bided my time patiently, pretending to be interested in the items across from the damned bread crumbs as I waited. Time stood still as minutes turned to hours in my head, and finally, having had enough, I kind of snuck around to her blind side and long-armed me the biggest cardboard can of crumbs I could grab, so as to avoid having to once again bread crumb shop any time in the near future.
And off I went, or so I thought, but oh no. Lovey engaged me in conversation!
She turned to me and said "excuse me, I noticed that you picked up the Progresso Italian crumbs. Are those good?"
Her eyelashes were long, surely too long, heavy black mascara painted with upturns on each outer side, Cleopatra style. Her hair was white-blonde, well done by a pro, that was obvious, and I thought I could see that once upon a time she was probably quite attractive. Her voice and speech had certain lilting qualities that were pleasing to me. Surely, once again, a lady refined as the midwest has to offer, though on the slippery downslope side of life.
"Well, yes" I replied "they are quite good." That's the best I could come up with. Are bread crumbs good? But of course!
"So, what are they, exactly?" This one set my head to spinning.
After a pause, befuddled more than a bit, I answered. "Imagine taking bread, fresh bread, and toasting it, then crushing it into small bits. Then adding some herbs .. and stuff."
She took that in and I could see the wheels were spinning behind those heavy lids.
Then, "if you don't mind me asking, what do you use them for?"
"No, I don't mind" I offered politely. "There are a plethora of uses. Tonight, I will be coating meat with these breadcrumbs, to do an oven fry, if you will."
Seeing she might be on the right track .... "OH!"
So once again, I set the buggy in motion, wondering if indeed there would still be daylight on the outside.
But then "how about in a meatloaf?"
I smiled and gave an enthused thumbs up, and replied "AB-SO-LUTELY!"
And, finally, on my way.
As I strolled to the checker I muttered aloud to myself, how does a woman get to be that age and not know what to do with bread crumbs? Certainly, this was a ruse on her part to start a conversation with me. Did she make it this far in life, never having to prepare a meatloaf?
No way. It was ME that she wanted. Bwahahaha!!
I exited then, into the full darkness of night.