The Saturday I became a stalker at Target

One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday morning (besides not having to wake up at 5 am), is heading out to Target to stock up on supplies (Yeah, I know...I lead a boring life if this is a highlight!). I usually walk into the store, peruse the specials on the wall and then grab a coffee (One time a little old man saw me prepare my coffee then proceeded to tell me I had put too much creamer in it. I turned around and told him he had not put ENOUGH creamer in his (all this done with a sweet smile on my face, of course)...I may not be ‘old’, but I can do ‘crotchety’).

This past Saturday I did a Target run, but things didn’t go as planned.

First, I grabbed a Venti drip at Starbucks (instead of waiting to buy my coffee at Target), so by the time I got to the store, I had to go pee. So, I walked straight to the restroom....and that’s when I saw him. He was perfect. The weird part about my story is that I can’t describe him as a whole because I don’t remember what he looked like. I just remember parts of him – his butt was perfect, his arms were tan and masculine. I liked the way his big watch fit on his wrist, his khakis were nice and ironed and his t-shirt skimmed his muscles just right. I guess you could call it more of an animalistic awareness that drew my eyes to him, but bottom line...I thought he was SO sexy. He was older, but very well made and he looked like he smelled of vanilla and exotic spices (He might have been part vampire...what else could explain my instant ‘like’ of this man).

However, my need to pee outweighed my need to follow him and tell him I loved him.

So, I finished my business, grabbed a cart and started my usual round. As I was heading toward the toilette paper isle (obviously this story has a ‘bathroom’ theme to it) I saw him coming towards me. As he passed I made a u-turn and started following him (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT...WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING!). He didn’t seem to notice me at first, but I was like a red SUV following a (insert the name of a sleek foreign car here)....eventually he turned around and looked at me. I smiled and pretended to be engrossed in figuring out what wine to select. (Thank God I was not in the cookie isle...I would have looked a lot less sophisticated). I didn’t have the courage to keep in pursuit since I had been ‘made’, but it took all my will power not to continue following him. (Since I didn’t have much will power left after using it all up that morning in NOT buying the raspberry pound cake to go with my Venti drip at Starbucks, I relied on old fashion Catholic shame)

How old am I? (Don’t answer that!). I was obviously having a brain hemorrhage which was the only explanation I could come up with for a grown and educated woman like myself to follow a man around a store just because he's ‘pretty’!! REALLY!!

I think I might need a case worker.

You Look Good Ey!

Have you ever wondered why Canadians and Cholos seem to say ‘Ey’ all the time? No......me neither (Who the heck has time to wonder about Canadians and Cholos??)

So, my story starts out one Tuesday afternoon as I was strolled the hallowed halls of my local Vons. (I had just spent the last 50 minutes commuting home after a long and meeting filled day at work and to my consternation, I realized I had to stop by the store to pick up some dinner supplies).

Let me back up a bit....

That morning I had taken a fashion forward leap and had worn leopard patterned flats with a black pencil skirt and black short sleeved blouse with a leopard patterned scarf (Grrrr!). According to Joan Rivers – a couple of animal print accents are tasteful and does not make you Jersylicious!

Let’s continue...

So, as I was walking up and down isles I heard a couple of old school cholos wandering the isles:

Cholo #1 : ‘Ey, I found the tortillas, there over here.”

Cholo #2: ‘Orale...I found the beer.”

I chuckled as I heard them communicate with each other (...Orale! Ey!....all I needed to hear was ‘Homes!’ to make the experience complete). Anyway, as I was walking down the “Mexican” food isle , I see both friends walking towards me from the other end. As they passed by, one of them looks at me and says:

Cholo #?: “You look good Ey!”

Me: “Thank you.” I said and added a smile.

Now, you might think that such a compliment wouldn’t really mean much to me, but considering that they looked like they were in a hurry, to actually take the time to notice how CUTE I was (I am taking his ‘You look good’ to mean ‘Cute’) took effort...and as such, I appreciated it.

Thinking back,  instead of ‘Thank you’ I should have said “Orale homes!”

Moral of the Story:

A compliment is a compliment, regardless of the source. If someone takes the time to give it, you should have the grace to appreciate it.

Or

A polite Cholo will always compliment you on your animal prints.