Friday, August 11, 2006

 

all sixes and sevens

Last night E and I went to the grocery store to buy stuff for dinner (because we're total gastronomes).

On the way out, a guy standing behind a rolly booth thing asked us if we wanted a free Post. We said, "sure!" He asked us how often we purchased a paper, and we said that we usually just read it online.

He was all "no no no, less than 10 percent of the paper is online!" and then he launched into a spiel of how if we subscribed to the Post right then, we'd get the weekday papers for free. I told him that I'd like the Sunday paper, but I wouldn't read the daily papers...and asked if we could just get that.

He said that we could, for $15.75.

While he was talking, I was observing. His face tan, his body a bit square, his tie (seen better days) decorated with images of the Washington Post. He was wearing one of those gold and silver bracelets that supposedly does something with magnetic fields, I think. Left-handed.

Remembering fondly (or not) my yucky days as a Circulation Intern at the paper at home, I asked him if he was a Circulation Manager at the Post. He said no, prevaricating, and changed the subject.

Wondering if perhaps he was just some crazy who bought a Washington Post tie and some legit looking receipts, I decided to pay cash, as opposed to credit card. Because you just never know.

Attempting to butter us up, he asked us if we were White House Interns, and then switched tactics and asked if we were lawyers. He asked us which free paper we wanted, because he had ones from last week. We said we'd take Thursday's, and he said that Friday's paper (from last week) had a great entertainment section. So we were like "okay..."

He ducks down behind his rolly booth, and pulled out a Friday's paper. He went searching through it for the aforementioned section, and whipped it out, opening it up. He said,

"Oh, I know a place that you'll love!"

And he kept saying that.

The nasty in me reared her head, and I resisted snootily saying "Um, you don't know what we'd love."

Curious as to what this place would be - if he would REALLY know what we'd love - we played along. He opened up the page to a 9:30 Club ad. Next to that was an ad for the Birchmere, and started talking about that, and how he's been there loads of times, back when he used to work for the Dixie Chicks.

E perked up at that (he had lost me at his "I KNOW what YOU'D LOVE!"), and, sensing her interest, he picked up his dusty satchel, and pulled out a photo that he carries around in its case.

Conspiratorially opening it, he revealed a picture of him, his ex-girlfriend, and two of the Chicks...his "best friends."

We escaped soon thereafter, marveling. E was wondering how a Dixie Chicks tour guy ended up at the local grocery, hawking posts. I was wondering if he had made it all up.

The point of all this is...I hate it when people make assumptions, and say stuff like "I know what you'll love!" when they don't know me. I know it's well-intended, but it rubs me the wrong way. I mean, I don't mind it if someone like... say... TONY... said it, because he knows me. Or even if an acquaintance did. It's totally cool.

And, well, I wouldn't mind if the Post man had phrased it as "oh, there's this place that's really great, I bet you'd love it." It's just the surety in his actions that irked me.

The guy on the Metro raised the same emotions in me. He said "don't worry" - I wasn't worrying. I didn't mind the homeless lady. It annoyed me that he thought I was worrying, that we were allies, when I thought he was a jerk.

And G. A month or so ago, when he was telling me that I'm such a great person, after knowing me for two hours. How the heck would he know?

And someone I haven't blogged about, this obnoxious photo guy who called, gave me crap in a joking manner, then said he was "just messing."

I think it all comes down to people who I don't know being too familiar. There's friendly - I'm all for chatting with random peeps - but I would never presume to think that I know them.

Comments:
Where do you meet these "sensitive" guys? And I don't mean sensitive in a good way...I mean it in a "what a wuss" kinda way. Any guy who carries a photo of him and the Dixie Chicks should be castrated and forced to live in Canada.

Please don't let these interations be a reflection of the male population at large...most of us wouldn't be able to pick the Dixie Chicks out of a lineup. But if you were to give me any beer in a solo cup, I could tell you the name and brewery within 10 seconds.

Now THAT should be your new qualification when judging a man...
 
A photo guy was "just messin'" ???

That certainly is messed up.
 
JC: I meet them everywhere. Grocery stores. Parking lots. Bars. I'M A MAGNET.

Start setting me up with your manly friends, please.

mel: Remember? Kenton? I shot that sucker down cold.
 
Well, you'll just love this...

ummm.. I mean, I bet you'll love this...

doh! Guess I screwed that up. Either way, let us know if the paper guy was legit or if just scammed you for the $15.
 
Cam: I don't know, I think we've reached the stage of "You'll love this!!" :-)
 
I know you are irratable.


<<

>>


*waits to see if she takes the bait*
 
JC is my hero.
 
bubble: you can bet I'm irritable! :-)

wombat: Mine too. We should make a fan club. Meetings are at bars, of course.
 
This is very interesting site...
»
 
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?