Friday, September 6, 2013

Not a Fan of Fans.

"I need some help here!" The woman suddenly announced while approaching the checkout lane. My lane was completely empty, so I waved to get her attention.

"I can help you Ma'am."

"Yes! A Man! You would know exactly."

Can I just say that while I am confident of my masculinity, I don't fit into many of societies boxes. Statements like this usually make me slightly nervous— unless opening the lid of a jar is somehow involved. She held up two spools of ribbon.

"Are these the right colors for [random animal]?"

"I am sorry, I actually don't follow sports; you are talking to the wrong person. Let me get you—"

That was when she began to hiss like a cat. Hunching her shoulders and bearing her teeth, she "scratched" at my face three times, suddenly straightened up gave me a "you are really strange" look, and walked away. I can only imagine what game day is like at her house!

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