Herbietown - I Realized Today that I’m a Hot Stud

I Realized Today that I’m a Hot Stud

We just got home from the Super Stop & Shop in Stamford.

I usually HATE grocery shopping with Greta. This is mostly due to male laziness. But I realized today that part of the reason I abhor grocery shopping is that I have no control over anything that happens. Greta decides what we’re going to eat that week, Greta makes the shopping list, and Greta picks the items off the shelves. When she asks for my opinion, it’s usually a trick question: I’m meant to reinforce the choice she’s already made.

Before today, the only fun thing about grocery shopping was driving the cart.  I’d pretend there were lasers, machine guns, and torpedos mounted in hidden locations, which I could control with buttons on the handle.  I would shoot people out of the way and drive around the wreckage.

I’d also perform daring feats with the cart…like running and jumping on the cart to see how far I could travel without touching the ground.

Today, in honor of Greta’s birthday, I decided to make grocery shopping fun.  So I took the lead in procuring groceries.  She handed me the list and I made it my personal mission to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible, while making responsible decisions about which brands and sizes we chose. Suddenly, I was in control of the experience.

I made excellent choices in record time, and I was able to navigate through the aisles efficiently and quickly.  I was a machine.

The last items on the list were cold cuts and vegetables.  I sent Greta off to pick out vegetables and I approached the deli counter.  I quickly realized my rookie mistake when I picked a number and found myself 9 deep in the line.

Then, all of a sudden, the grocery cart next to me began to tip over.  A child had pushed it.  The left front wheel was missing so it tipped precariously and was about to fall into the hot dug buns.  I leapt heroically to the assistance of the young mother and helped her right the cart.  I pointed out the missing wheel and helped her transfer her goods to a new cart.

Superman to the rescue. Or maybe it’s Super Yuppie.

In any event, all of the women waiting in line at the deli counter began to look me over. I could feel their eyes watching me, undressing me. I visualized myself in their mind’s eye….A good-looking young man with really nice jeans, the kind of man who helps with the grocery shopping (and does so quite efficiently), the kind of man who protects children from falling grocery carts, the kind of man who makes enough money and has good enough taste to buy that succulent-looking piece of gouda cheese he’s carrying in his hand. The kind of man that acts when action is needed and waits patiently when he’s in a line. The kind of man who makes witty comments to the help working the deli counter, but isn’t obnoxious and doesn’t hold up the line. In short, this guy standing in front of me, the one whose biceps are rippling beneath his “Tuck” t-shirt, is about the hottest thing I’ve seen since I was in college 12 years ago.  If only I weren’t married/in a relationship/shy.

After a few minutes of this staring and drooling, I started to worry that these hungry women were preparing to pounce on me, right in the cheese section.

Then my wife arrived at my side, having completed her vegetables mission. The women’s shoulders visibly fell and I heard several crestfallen sighs and a few swears. Making matters worse, they noticed Greta’s pregnant belly, and thought to themselves: “Not only was he prepared to commit, but he wants a family!? The PERFECT MAN!  And he’s taken by that lucky B with the pregnant glowing face!!”

I ordered our turkey breast and salami, and we wheeled the cart away.  As we rounded the corner, I peaked back at the deli counter, and sure enough, 6 women stared after me longingly.

In New York, I’d be just another schmuck, and no one would even notice me.

Here in Yuppietown, Connecticut, I’m quite the catch.