Paris had decided that she was my horse, and I had been ordered to say "yaah" to go and "woah" to stop as she dragged my carriage (the shopping trolley) up and down the fairly deserted aisles.
As we exited the staples/tins and exotic products aisle, an old man took note.
Unfortunately not an old man of the ilk that smiled gently and moved on. This old man was more the Frank Barrone variety. Slightly more hair, perhaps, but clothed by the same tailor and sang from the same song book.
As we "woah"ed to go around the corner of the toiletries aisle, he said (and this needs its own line)
"having a good day out, Nanna?"
Not having yet taught Paris the meaning of certain swear-words, I nodded politely and "yaahed" her right up to the far end of that aisle in record speed.
Unfortunately I had toiletry needs that were located at the near end, but the mortification of a septuagenarian referring to me as "Nanna" blitzed all logical thought from my head.
We then "yaah"ed productively down the cleaning products aisle. We were almost clear when he leaped (well, shuffled) out again, pretending to be a policeman and spooking my horse.
As we all know, Paris is excessively shy, and so my gorgeous little horse shied beautifully and manouvred the carriage around Mr Plod.
My nod lost its polite, and any discerning fellow shopper would surely have read the swear words in my body language.
Alas no.
I will give him this, he must have put on a bit of speed, because in the time it took for us to collect some cheese he had placed himself in the petfood aisle where he could not be avoided.
My horse slowed, unsure of her footing. I "yaah"ed as gently as I could, and called out that we were currently invisible if he could please clear our carriageway. He smiled like we were playing with him (rather than despite) and offered me another "Nanna" gee up.
Unfortunately I do not have any Elsa powers, otherwise the grocery store could have moved their fridge section across.
Into the last section, I remembered bags and toiletry requirements. I left Paris by the ever so exciting stationary section and went back around the corner - and there he lurked. I ignored very pointedly, but as he crabwalked towards me, I gave up my quest and returned to my carriage.
By the time we were at our final collection (frozen peas) he had caught up and attempted conversation.
"She must be such a delight for you, Nanna" he opened with.
My polite had left, and I delivered a rather curt "She is my daughter. I am her mother." The "and expletive deleted off" was unspoken but definitely in the delivery.
"Oh, well done" he said in a tone that reflected his belief that I had approached World Records in Geriatric Maternity.
I then realised that, not only was he being gobsmackingly rude in assuming my role in Paris' life, this was his attempt to pick me up.
At the supermarket.
On a Friday afternoon.
Maaaaate.
A. The wedding ring was on. Out of bounds.
B. Old enough to be my father.
C. Not only out of my generation, out of my LEAGUE.
Yeah. But the roots - definitely due a touch-up, it seems!!
8 comments:
I know this was not funny at the time, but you have to admit your re-telling of it has its humorous moments.
By the end of the tale...yes, hitting on you for sure. But my first thoughts were "dirty old man" and "keep away from Paris"!
Kelly - it was one of those events where I had to find the funny side otherwise foetal position and rocking would have featured in my weekend. And yes - I am definitely a very Brahman cow mother should any dirty old men lurk around my little girl.
Oh nooooo. A kid at my son's childcare called me nanny once. I thought he meant an actual nanny then a while later I realised he thought I was my son's nana. Ouch! But your guy sounds like a creep. Hope he's not a regular when/where you shop.
Mortifying , a few times people,have assumed my twins were not mine. I wasn't quick enough with a witty come back ever. I just say loudly here hold this for mummy.
Rude he iwas but he probably thought you were hawt. Men seriously want younger women not ol de lay dis .
Have you seen he video I posted.
Jen - I am on high alert to dodge should I see him again (and I have done my roots!!)
Trish - must go in search of the video.
I really tried not to laugh, Jeanie, but I will admit to a couple snorts of laughter as I read this.
My experience. Yesterday I took Wiliiam to the playground. He ran and enjoyed himself. I pushed on the swing, and spun the merry go round, etc. etc.
I was left at the side like so much garbage when a little girl appeared. Her escort, a gentleman roughly my own age, seated himself on a bench near where I stood.
I kept an eagle eye on William as he ran and played with his new friend. The gentleman on the bench began to talk in a friendly way. He gave me a modest look and assured me several times that he was the girl's father and not her grandfather. Over and over.
Smiling politely was evidently not what he was looking for. My God. He fathered a child in his fifties. Does he want a freaking cookie?
Oh Em GEE! Lucky I wasn't there... maybe we all need to practice our witty comebacks. Asking him if he needed assistance finding his walker maybe? Hugs.
:-)
BB
PS I still think you are a YOUNG hottie. x
Debby - he probably is still quite in awe of his powers!!
BB - had not wit to comeback with - he obviously didn't need his walker, as he had a handy sprint line, and I doubt the "got glasses" line would have worked as my grey was blaringly obvious.
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