There she was in her black stretchy pants, oversized sweater, tattered hair that needed a Pantene makeover and still sporting the remains of yesterday’s eyeliner and mascara.
Must’ve been a rough night.
Yup there she was behind me.
Now supermarket protocol states that when you’re behind someone in line, you don’t cut in front of them and put your groceries down. This is universal standing in line protocol that applies to all kinds of lines. Banks. Pharmacies. Movie theaters. Theme parks. Fast food joints. Even at Starbucks.
You wait your turn.
Something you learned in kindergarten, but seeing how kids are so advanced nowadays they probably learn it in preschool.
Anyhow seeing how I’ve been feeling under the weather, and heavily influenced by Theraflu, I tend to move a little bit slower than usual.
But not that slow blonde-lady-who-cut-in-line-in-front-of-me-at-Trader-Joes.
It took me moment to realize what had just transpired. But after watching her park her cart in the on-deck circle of grocery lines, I searched my cloudy brain for the right words.
“Hey, hey, hey wait-a-minute-one-second. Dude what are you doing?”
“What do you mean what? You can’t just be cutting in line.”
“Well you’re suppose to put your stuff on the small counter.”
“I’m supposed to be standing in line behind this guy respecting his personal space as he’s still unloading groceries. That’s where I’m supposed to be and seeing how you were behind me, you’re supposed to be over there,” I said pointing to the spot where she should have been standing.
A normal person would have remembered their whole New Year’s I’m-gonna-be-a-better-person resolution and apologize for their lapse in judgement and back on up. However she stood there with her cart on the on-deck circle.
I stood in front of her.
Here we were … In a Mexican Standoff on aisle two of Trader Joes.
And this is where Jim came along.
I don’t know if he saw this transpire, or if the universe was conspiring with me, or if he was just up next, but with his most awesome smile and wave, this Hawaiian shirt wearing dude waved me over.
“I’ll take you over here miss, on the next line. You were next.” He said.
I smiled and grabbed my stuff.
Karma had worked its magic because Jim was an awesome way to start a Monday morning. His smile, his demeanor, and his awesome little anecdote about the chocolate I was buying made me forget all about black stretchy pants chick, who was still on the on-deck spot because the dude before us was paying with a check, and he was still writing it out. Jim rang up my stuff and I was on my way.
Black stretchy pants was still waiting.
I turned around and gave Jim a high-five.