“Remoted” – Workday 153 / Day 225 (Tuesday)

Vote for the sexy sweater dogs!

It is chilly and autumnal and I wore a giant scarf shawl all day like someone’s little old grandma. The only thing missing was a rocking chair. The dogs were fidgety until I put sweaters on them and then they seemed more calm, probably because they knew they looked fabulous. Moose wore a handknit sweater in tan with brown trim, which has a coordinating scarf for the human, gifted by my talented cousin. Winston sported a green rib knit with black trim. 

After supper, I diapered the dogs in the standard leaving the house ritual and took a ride downtown to finally drop off my ballot in the drop box at City Hall. It’s been completed since last week, but I didn’t see a parking spot when I was in the area several days ago, and knowing I still had plenty of time, kept driving. 

Because I was already out and dog free, there was a quick stop at Family Dollar to check for Spray and Wash. There was none, but because I was already in the store, it seemed logical to shop. There were paper napkins and coffee filters, which I needed, but it seemed like a dumb trip to only spend $2.50 (plus tax) on a debit card. The next thing I knew, I was carrying sugar wafer cookies, Swiss Rolls, chewy granola bars with chocolate chips, and a wine glass to replace the crystal stem knocked into the metal sink and broken about a month ago. A pint of beloved butter pecan ice cream was rejected because every single container in the so-called freezer was squishy and soft. The total of $6.73 seemed more “worthwhile” for the trip.

While heading to my car, there was a guy in the parking lot. He was tall, dressed in dark clothing, and beyond that, seemed average and nondescript. In other words, I would make a crappy eye witness. He was walking towards me from three or four parking spaces away, saying, “Miss, can I ask you something?” My wise-ass former self would have pointed out he had already just asked me something, but I wanted to get home and wasn’t in the mood for a parking lot conversation. And any time a question begins with a preamble to request permission to ask the question, it’s already feeling like a full-blown conversation.

There are times I would welcome a conversation, any conversation at all, but tonight I was chilly, my hands were full, and it was getting dark, so this was not one of those times. He followed up with, “I’m not weird, I’m driving the Mercedes,” and gestured to a silver Mercedes in the next row. Maybe he thought I’d be impressed. I wasn’t. Right, dude. You aren’t weird because you claim that you’re not, and everyone knows that you have to pass a test proving you aren’t weird to be allowed to drive a Mercedes. Did I get that right? 

I kind of waved him off saying, “Nah, I gotta go,” as I continued to my car. He kept on, “Can I just ask you a question?” The tally was now two questions, and he still hadn’t managed to ask his actual question. I got in my car and left and he wandered towards the next person exiting the store. At home on the couch, eating Swiss Rolls, no longer outside in the chill, I’m kind of curious as to what the question was.  But now we’ll never know.