A while back I was grocery shopping with my dear mother. She is in good health in her nineties, but she is no speed demon on foot. I really like that because the leisurely pace is so calming to me. We got the last items from the back and I suggested that I take the cart ahead and get in line for the wait. she agreed so I was solo with the cart. I was dressed to the nines and feeling fine, when I started up an isle with cold cabinets on one side and shelves of pickles on the other. Mid way up I spied a male shopper that was trying to appear nonchalant, gazing down the isle at me. My creep meter told me he was eyeing me. He was partially turned looking over his shoulder, with his cart diagonally blocking the isle. We were the only two in that isle. My creep meter warned me to observe carefully.
He was dressed in a wrinkly sloppy sport logo jersey, cruddy gym shorts, funky patterned and clashing colors and filthy sneakers. You get the picture, every woman's dream catch. His smirking grin was such a turn on too. NOT!!! I watched him with no reactions, creep meter now pegged at a ten! As I approached I did not ask him to move his offending cart. He stood there waiting for my reaction, I chose to ignore appearing to shop for pickles. Finally with no reaction coming, he said excuse me and jerked his cart to the side. He had turned toward me with a big grim. He was not wearing chonies and his little peg was standing straight out. Even though that was so far beyond disgusting, I emotionlessly shopped through like it isn't my favorite brand of pickle.
I have recounted this story to my natal girl friends and they have all told me that they have had to put up with that behavior all their adult lives and this probably won't be my last time. Oh joy, I really don't like pot bellied pigs. Hug. Joann