Public Speaking

Today was a Costco day. I actually did need a few things, but a trip there is also a form of entertainment. (I’m easily amused.)
I arrived at lunch time so I was able to take advantage of the ladies offering samples at their little stations scattered through the store. I had a tiny piece of pizza (very average), a pot sticker (yummy. I should have grabbed a bag.), and two chicken and parmesan raviolis (I have no shame – I visited that lady twice. They were great and I was hungry. In my defense, I did buy some.)

The demographics were what you’d expect in the middle of a working day. A few younger types, but mostly people of a certain age.

An attractive woman in her 60s struck up a conversation with the

ravioli vender. “So what do you cook these in?” The vender patiently pointed to the pot of boiling water six inches from the customer.

Two young mothers were there, each with a baby-filled car seat wedged in her carriage. It was the young-mother version of girl time. One said, “Oh look! Pineapples. I think I’ll get one. . . no, wait. I think I’m allergic.”

A fifty-ish couple passed me, the husband morosely pushing the cart in the canned goods section while his wife in a sari chatted continuously. My eavesdropping was severely hampered by the fact that she was nattering on in some other language.

At the check-out counter, the two women waiting behind me with their carts struck up a conversation with each other as women tend to do. (I have almost never seen men turn to some other guy standing in front of a display of hardware and launch into the merits of one bolt versus another. This is a very female thing, which grows in occurrence as we get older and no longer give a damn.)

The woman closest to me held up a tiny dress with ruffled pants for her neighbor in line. The other woman exclaimed over how adorable it was and asked how old the granddaughter might be. I never found out, since my order was completed. I paid and left.

I followed a couple out to the parking lot. He looked to be in his 40s, she was somewhere between 16 and 29 and must have been anorexic. No one has a body that tiny naturally.

As it turned out, we were parked next to each other. I quickly learned that they were the type of couple who puts on a performance for whoever might be nearby.

 While we all loaded our cars, they began loudly bandying what they must have thought to be rib-tickling remarks back and forth to each other. It was impossible not to overhear what they were saying.  They were performing for my benefit, showing me that weren’t they just hilarious, ho, ho. He said something about the weekend, and she replied, she didn’t know – she’d been too high! Ha, Ha.

Thankfully, at this point I had returned my cart and could retreat to the blessed silence of my car with the rolled-up windows.