Perhaps you remember my first Kroger experience in Harrisonburg, with the little-boy-bearded teenage. If not, click here.
Well, he struck again. This time less creepy—but no less irritating.
My mother-in-law and I went to buy cleaning supplies—and beer—so we could spruce up the new house. We went to Kroger because it’s the closest grocery store to where we now live.
I had just relayed the story of my little-boy-bearded friend when, lo and behold, there he was—in our line.
“Hi, Mom,” he said to my M-I-L as he bagged a bottle of Pine-Sol.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Because we look so much alike?” she later said as we loaded the bags into my trunk. (She’s about 5’8″ with blonde hair and blue eyes; I’m 5’3″ with brown hair and eyes.)
After the clerk lady ascertained why we had all these cleaning products and a 12-pack of Bud Light Golden Wheat, Captain I-Would-Love-to-Give-You-a-Kiss-or-at-Least-My-Number-Right-Now would not give us the beer. He held it out and yanked it away.
FYI: Do not stand between someone who has just bought a house and beer. This annoyed even my mother-in-law, who is probably one of the most patient people I have ever met.
“Are you even old enough to be holding that?” I had to ask.
Hey—if you’re going to be a pain in the ass, I’m going to treat you like a pain in the ass.
He surrendered, but not before a few more playful yanks out of my reach.
Oh, the fun I know we’re going to have, LittleBoyBeard and I. The anticipation of seeing him every time I shop, the quick looks over my shoulder, the futile attempts to avoid his lines…
Just. Can’t. Wait.