Friday, July 22, 2011

The black and white of being a mama.

I need to preface this post: I'm nice, a total people-person. If you and I met in Target, we'd have a full-on conversation. It's not, in any way, out of the ordinary for me to strike up conversation with random people at the gym. I enjoy new people. I'm a total extrovert. However, this post is about the people you encounter and your bullshizz radar starts going all loco....

Since procreating one of the most amazing people EVAH, things don't really scare me that much. I don't really think I was especially timid before, but I'd always keep in mind that I have a giant husband at home that can come save the day, should my day need saving, when I'm out and about. Now, I'm all "Listen, biatches. ZERO FEAR. Totes." Being a mama does that to you; you can't let anything happen to yourself----you have a family for whom to care.

Here's the story that inspired such a post.

A couple nights ago, after the gym, I decided to stink up Walmart by picking up a few things without changing. Stink aside, the past few trips to Walmart have been met with some odd ones in the parking lot. Ya know those people who approach and start feeding you lines of horse hockey to get something out of you? Well, I'm walking back to the truck and this guy driving by, I'd seen him circle the parking lot a few times---apparently looking for someone he thought would eat up his story, calls out "Miss?". Unfortunately for him, it was about 3,200 degrees that day, it was killing me that I couldn't ease Jake's teething for him, and the only remedy (skinny dipping. for the heat. not the teething. obviously) for the day was not feasible. Needless to say, I was in no mood to be screwed with.

This creepy, older guy starts telling me his entire life story. How he wants to celebrate something with his "old lady", but if he goes to see her--which she doesn't even really want--- (he's a trucker, apparently) he'll go to jail. GREAT! Yes, sir, please tell me how I can help a potential felon. Absolutely. I'm all ears.

Apparently, my inner monologue was quite sarcastic that day.

But, hey, this girl wasn't buyin' what he was tryin' to sell.....

Anywho :-)

So, he wants me to take his pile of clothes, in his creepy-mobile, in exchange for gas. I did a quick rundown in the ol' cabeza:

1) "old lady" doesn't want you.
2) You're creepy
3) Something you do, which is yet to be determined, could land you in jail.

((secret thought #4---just how manly am I that he's offering me
his clothing? Fo' shizzle, I'm chock-full of girl parts!!))

Please, where do I sign up?!

I guess I was silently thinking too long and he says "Oh, you don't have to be scared". In combination with my I-have-no-problem-stabbing-you-in-the-jugular-with-my-house-key look, I respond "Ohhh, I'm not scared"

Truth is, I wasn't.

I have a husband and a son that need me; just remember, possible creepsters, I am mama....hear me roar see me stab.

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