Hooper goes to the grocery store

As is often the case for a man with my busy schedule, I found myself heading out to the grocery store one late evening to restock the pantry.

After parking the Hoopermobile and trying to wrestle loose a cart inside, I am greeted enthusiastically by a local homeless fellow who has taken it upon himself to befriend me.  Waving and using his outside voice he calls out “Hey!  Hey!”  He’s waving to me like a castaway using semaphore to flag down a passing ship.

You know when you’re at a party or work/school, and somebody you don’t immediately recognize calls out in your general direction?  You’re not quite sure if they’re talking to you, but you don’t want to be a git, so, after a quick check behind, you wave back to be polite.  That’s what I did.

And it was a mistake, because I now I had engaged the unwashed gentleman with the distinct aroma of crazy.  “How ya doing?” he calls out as he tries to make his way over.  At this point, I’m whispering a hushed and hurried prayer to the grocery cart gods to release just one of their followers so I may make an immediate escape.

Sensing my desire to get away, my new friend calls out again loudly and with more desperation.  My cart finally comes loose, and with a weak smile, quick nod of the head, downcast eyes, and quick feet I get away.

Now, there was nothing wrong with this guy – he was a little unsettling but polite.  But I was uncomfortable with him so  I choose to dodge him rather than treat him with the same courtesy.  Schmuck.

About halfway through my trip, I’m comparing the relative merits of a variety of generic frozen pizzas when I become aware that I need to pee.  Not the when-I-get-home need to pee, but the find-a-bathroom-now-to-avoid-embarrassment need to pee.  One problem – to get to the bathroom I have to go past my new friend.  I seriously consider abandoning my cart and heading for home.

Advancing with all the stealth I could muster with a bursting bladder, I find the coast clear.  I stash my cart near the deli, briefly marvel at the majesty of single-serving bags of Nutter Butters, and duck into the bathroom.

And there he is.  No where to hide, run away, or pretend I don’t see him.  And with a weak smile, quick nod of his head, downcast eyes, and quick feet he leaves.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: