Military strategy is a collection of sciences that govern the conduct of warfare, one being tactics which is the execution of plans and the maneuvering of forces in battle.
I have not served in the military, but I can tell you I have used the strategy of tactics out in public in the art of avoiding men I have dated – more times than I can count.
Last night I practiced the art of tactical maneuvering ability within the isles of the local grocery store. Why is it, I ask you, that when I feel my worst, or am dressed in my oldest sweats, or I’ve just run out the door without make-up with my hair looking like Phyllis Diller’s, that I manage to run into a guy I used to date?
I could save myself a lot of anguish if I always dressed my best, looked my best and never left the house looking like Brian’s dog drug me around by my hair on the kitchen floor, then I would never ever see any of the guys I have dated.
I bet you that I could win 40 million dollars in the lottery, drive everywhere in my new Porsche with George Clooney at my side and never – ever – ever – ever (did I type ever?) run into a guy who knew me when I drove that wood paneled pinto.
Life just doesn’t work that way for me.
Why? I have no idea.
Last night I decided to pick up a few quick groceries at the bigger chair grocery store because it is near Brian’s football practice. I usually prefer a smaller market in the middle of town which is fast (and I don’t see men I know). I was in old jeans, tennis shoes, and an old sweatshirt. I spent the day hiking 5 miles and moving office furniture around, so my hair was a mess and I didn’t have make up on my face. I have pale ruddy Irish skin, which would look creamy great if I lived in the dense fog and damp, but in sunny California, it makes my skin look more like a spotted slug.
Let’s just say, I am a girl that looks better with make-up on.
I dash into the store, grab a cart and race for my few 8 or less items. I am almost done shopping, when I think maybe Brian would like roast beef sandwiches and turn my cart toward the Deli section. I round a corner heading straight for the Deli and glance up ahead, suddenly I slowly focus on a guy saying something to his young son. The man turns his head revealing the side of his face. My heart leaps out my mouth and falls on the floor, rolling ahead of me.
Oh Shit, it’s Icouldn’tmakeupmymindman! I am about to bump right into a guy I once dated.
I think there should be an Olympic event for grocery cart maneuvering speed, because last night would have won me the gold medal.
In just under a second from face recognition to body response, I veered my cart a quick hard right and ran up the isle away from Icouldn’tmakeupmymindman with a fast walk-run, trying not to be noticed.
I wanted some new Newton’s theory of mass to render me invisible.
One problem, when forced to do such a maneuver, I am now at the back of the store, with guy I don’t want to see (and checkout) at the front of the store.
Besides the issue of how I look, I don’t want to talk to this guy more than the fact that I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be nice to him. I am angry with him, and want to be rude. When I want to be rude, I want to be in a suit with make up.
It comes off better – less trailer trash.
So there I was, stuck at the back of the store when Bob, the very gay and very fun grocery checker comes out of the back “Hi Doll” he says looking at my face, “What’s the matter hon?” He comes closer. I explain my dilemma. He smiles, “Well doll I am about to take over quick check out. Come with me and I will check you out first. If you spot him let me know and I’ll create a diversion. Is he cute?”
There is nothing like getting one’s gay grocery clerk involved in shopping tactic maneuver strategy. He grabs the front of my cart “Worst case, if you run into him tell him you’ve found happiness and have become a lesbian. Say it is his fault,thank him and walk away,” he laughs.
He’s brilliant
He pulls me safely through the store to the front.
I give him a description of Ican’tmakeupmymind man. He watches my back as I quickly get checked out and pay for my items. With everything bagged in my cart with no Ican’tmakeupmymind man in site, we high 5 and I race out the door. There is a triumph one feels when successfully avoiding a man when you look like crap. I felt like someone should have handed me a blue ribbon.
As I throw the items on my front seat, it dawns on me that I need to date in another town.
Or better yet, move to another town – even better – another state.
Or join the military and put these maneuvering skills to good use.
Until next time-
C
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
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