All about produce...
Hair curled, check.
Nails painted, check.
Knee high, I feel amazing about myself boots, check.
Show off the boobs shirt, check.
Flask, because a little liquid courage can't do anything but help, check.
I went on a date this weekend. It was absolutely pouring rain when I pulled up at Starbucks. He was standing outside waiting. Why was he standing outside waiting in the rain, I have no idea but he was but there he was. Sweatshirt, jeans and a grocery store cap, his hands shoved in his pocket like a high school boy on his first date. He was tall and lanky in an awkward type of way, he rocked back and forth on his heels as I hurried up to the door. After a very awkward hug, that I wasn't expecting that realistically turned out to be more like a bro hug, we hurried into the warm, friendly Starbucks atmosphere that all of us Washingtonians are familiar with.
As we sit down at a table in the corner he blurts out, "I'm not much of a talker." and looks at me like a deer in the headlights. He remembers to take off his hat and sheepishly sets it on his knee and again I get the deer in the headlights look. After some small talk about how he ended up in Washington, by the route of California, the silence creeps in again. I begin to ramble, trying to keep the momentum going. I try to reassure him when he asks how he is doing and I tell him he is doing fine. His eyes light up and he immediately says "oh, you think i'm fine huh?" like he was thinking I thought he was a hot piece of eye candy. Lets just say this was awkward moment number 1,183. At that point he grabbed my hands in his across the table and started stroking my hands, "how does that feel" comes out of his mouth and I sheepishly smile, not quite sure what to say at that point. I resist the urge to recoil my hands into my pockets to get away from the awkward stroking of my fingers going on.
Then I made the most risky decision of the date, I asked about his work, produce. He works in the produce department at a local grocery store. The flood gate opens. Did you know that "red bagging" produce is when they are blemished and can be sold at a lower price. I also now know that all the produce such as salads have to be removed from the shelf by 9am on the day they go bad. I know all about how to weigh, mark up, put out, clean and deal with understaffing in the produce department. I heard all about the Asian customers that want a deal and the people that use google to help them shop produce. I heard about how understaffed they are and all about how the produce department is the only department in the store that makes money. I didn't know that they bakery is always in the red, the meat department sometimes breaks even, but that produce department they're the money maker. Did you know that green onions are marked up at about 78%? Well, now we both know. After an hour of pretending to be interested in produce I knew I needed out of that Starbucks.
Hastily I begin to make up an excuse about driving home in the dark during the rain. It was unfamiliar streets in a small town and I needed to head home. He hops up and I can see what his next move is. As we walk out the door he begins to gush over what a great date it was and follows me to my car like a lost puppy looking for a bone. Sheepishly the question comes, "Can we do this again" my head screams NO MORE PRODUCE, but I can't handle hurting the poor kid and explain how busy my next couple weeks are. He goes in for a hug, at this point i'm expecting another bro-hug like earlier but it happens, he did it, he went in for a kiss. With a quick turn of the head he got the cheek and I don't think I've ever moved towards my car quicker. I climb in, close the door and watch him one again cram his hands back into his pocket and wander towards his pick up. A wash of relief comes over me, I dated. I did it - I met someone, I sat learned a lot about produce and learned a lot about myself in the process.
Does Mr. Produce Charming have another date on the books, nope. The sparks didn't fly between this 35 year old newly single mom and the 32 year old awkward high school boy. Time will tell who comes next... but I'm thinking that it won't be another produce clerk who is more interested in a zucchini than me.
Nails painted, check.
Knee high, I feel amazing about myself boots, check.
Show off the boobs shirt, check.
Flask, because a little liquid courage can't do anything but help, check.
I went on a date this weekend. It was absolutely pouring rain when I pulled up at Starbucks. He was standing outside waiting. Why was he standing outside waiting in the rain, I have no idea but he was but there he was. Sweatshirt, jeans and a grocery store cap, his hands shoved in his pocket like a high school boy on his first date. He was tall and lanky in an awkward type of way, he rocked back and forth on his heels as I hurried up to the door. After a very awkward hug, that I wasn't expecting that realistically turned out to be more like a bro hug, we hurried into the warm, friendly Starbucks atmosphere that all of us Washingtonians are familiar with.
As we sit down at a table in the corner he blurts out, "I'm not much of a talker." and looks at me like a deer in the headlights. He remembers to take off his hat and sheepishly sets it on his knee and again I get the deer in the headlights look. After some small talk about how he ended up in Washington, by the route of California, the silence creeps in again. I begin to ramble, trying to keep the momentum going. I try to reassure him when he asks how he is doing and I tell him he is doing fine. His eyes light up and he immediately says "oh, you think i'm fine huh?" like he was thinking I thought he was a hot piece of eye candy. Lets just say this was awkward moment number 1,183. At that point he grabbed my hands in his across the table and started stroking my hands, "how does that feel" comes out of his mouth and I sheepishly smile, not quite sure what to say at that point. I resist the urge to recoil my hands into my pockets to get away from the awkward stroking of my fingers going on.
Then I made the most risky decision of the date, I asked about his work, produce. He works in the produce department at a local grocery store. The flood gate opens. Did you know that "red bagging" produce is when they are blemished and can be sold at a lower price. I also now know that all the produce such as salads have to be removed from the shelf by 9am on the day they go bad. I know all about how to weigh, mark up, put out, clean and deal with understaffing in the produce department. I heard all about the Asian customers that want a deal and the people that use google to help them shop produce. I heard about how understaffed they are and all about how the produce department is the only department in the store that makes money. I didn't know that they bakery is always in the red, the meat department sometimes breaks even, but that produce department they're the money maker. Did you know that green onions are marked up at about 78%? Well, now we both know. After an hour of pretending to be interested in produce I knew I needed out of that Starbucks.
Hastily I begin to make up an excuse about driving home in the dark during the rain. It was unfamiliar streets in a small town and I needed to head home. He hops up and I can see what his next move is. As we walk out the door he begins to gush over what a great date it was and follows me to my car like a lost puppy looking for a bone. Sheepishly the question comes, "Can we do this again" my head screams NO MORE PRODUCE, but I can't handle hurting the poor kid and explain how busy my next couple weeks are. He goes in for a hug, at this point i'm expecting another bro-hug like earlier but it happens, he did it, he went in for a kiss. With a quick turn of the head he got the cheek and I don't think I've ever moved towards my car quicker. I climb in, close the door and watch him one again cram his hands back into his pocket and wander towards his pick up. A wash of relief comes over me, I dated. I did it - I met someone, I sat learned a lot about produce and learned a lot about myself in the process.
Does Mr. Produce Charming have another date on the books, nope. The sparks didn't fly between this 35 year old newly single mom and the 32 year old awkward high school boy. Time will tell who comes next... but I'm thinking that it won't be another produce clerk who is more interested in a zucchini than me.
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