To the Gentleman Whose Man Card I Revoked… It Was Unintentional
For what it's worth, I wasn't supposed to be at the grocery store on Super Bowl Sunday in the first place.
I, Jess, am the reason why one gentleman is no longer in possession of his man card. I'm not even sure if you can revoke someone's man card, but I'm almost certain that's what happened at the grocery store on Super Bowl Sunday.
You were trying to make it through the store unscathed, much like I was. No one wants to be at the store on the same day as a major event. In this case it was the Super Bowl. It's obvious that we each got up early to make sure we could beat the crowd. Like the few others in the store who weren't employees we wore our best athleisure ware. The plan was simple... get in, get what you need, and get out.
But I took it too far.
I pushed too much and tried to knock out more of my future store list. Something inside me told me it was a mistake, but I pressed on. It was the mouthwash that was my downfall. There is was, the exact product I needed. Only it was the last of the bunch and sat at the very back of the top shelf. The fluorescent light reflecting off the bottle mocked me. It might as well have been Mount Everest. However, knowing I'm an independent woman, I took my best shot at trying to dislodge the item myself. Nothing.
And then you arrived.
I felt your presence radiating from down the aisle. Despite the camouflage Oakley sweatshirt, I could see you. A knight in shining cargo shorts and sneakers. Like a damsel in distress I called to you, pleading for your help. A simple nod was all it took for me to know that everything was going to be alright. My breath would forever be fresh thanks to that Listerine. You traversed the aisle with such grace, such certainty. It was then that I noticed a fatal flaw in this fairy tale. As you came closer and closer, I realized...
You are in fact 3/4 of an inch shorter than me.
The smile on your face could not be denied, even though it slowly turned into a grimace as you looked at the object of my desire. It was clear that you had come to the same realization as me. Yet I refused to steamroll this story line, your moment of future triumph, so I asked again, "Can you please help me?" I'm sure at this point you were more than willing to work your magic however, you continued to stare at the bottle. The seconds turned into minutes and what felt like hours.
It was then that an employee jumped in to save the day.
I thanked you for your time, lightly touched your arm, and avoided you for the rest of my shopping experience. We made eye contact again in the self-checkout. My stomach turned. I made a swift exit and got the heck out of there.