When we tell a true story, especially one in which tempers flared, the tendency is always to make oneself the good guy in the retelling. I’m going to do my best to relate the story of an interaction I had yesterday in a Publix grocery store as rationally and objectively as I can. Wish me luck.
I’d had a beautifully relaxing facial on Thursday morning, and was driving home to Doright Manor when I remembered that we needed a few items from the grocery store. Since I was just a mile or so from a Publix store I changed my route slightly and headed there.
First I went to the beauty aisle to pick up some shampoo for Studly Doright. He’s the most manly of men, yet he likes what I call, “Froo Froo” scented shampoos. Lots of florals or fruit essences. Sometimes I sneak in a more neutral scented shampoo, but I always end up having to use it because he won’t.
Then I shopped the produce section, searching for apples, oranges, strawberries, bananas and pineapple to satisfy our juicing habit. Studly really enjoys making juice every evening, and I try to keep fresh fruits on hand to encourage this new habit. Better fruit scented juice than fruit scented hair, I always say.
Finally I went to pick out a steak or two for him. I seldom eat meat anymore, but Studly does. I pulled my cart up parallel to the meat case, leaving a couple of feet between the cart and the case so others could peruse the section, as well.
I picked up one package of meat, placed it in a plastic bag inside my cart and turned to get another one. At the same time this big bruiser of a woman pulled her cart between mine and the case, moving me out of the way. I politely waited, thinking she’d be through soon, but she pulled out her phone and made a non-food related call.
“Excuse me,” J said. “Are you going to be awhile?”
“As long as it takes, lady.”
“Do you think perhaps I could have some room to get to the steaks?”
“When I’m done,” she said.
Okay, here I was wearing my peace sign t-shirt, feeling my blood pressure spike. This woman was almost my height, maybe an inch less than my 5’8″, but outweighed me by a good 50 lbs.
I indicated my cart, and said, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I parked my cart to allow others to shop as well. Not for you to block me out.”
“Listen, lady, I’m going to look at the steaks whether you move or not.” I proceeded then to put my hip into her cart and push. Whew. Not smart, but damn. She had my dander up.
That’s when she threatened to knock the shit out of me. Her exact words.
Now, I should explain here that I did take a step back, but at the same time I said, “Bring it, bitch.”
My brain was screaming at me to shut up. There’s no way I wanted to fight, and I have no idea what I’d have done if she had taken a swing at me. Thankfully I didn’t have to find out. She turned her back, allowed me to find my steaks, and then I went to the checkout counter.
I’m sure she’s telling somebody about the mean hippie chick who threatened her at the Publix today. I still can’t believe I let her get to me like that. The steaks would’ve been there if I’d walked away for five minutes and come back to shop at my leisure. I’m so not proud of myself.
To top it off, I ruined the good vibes I had going from my facial. Damn.