My husband works in a grocery store. It’s not one of those regular grocery stores, like Acme or Shoprite. It’s one of those places that only seems to pop up in wealthier areas because rich
bitches ladies will spend $6/lb. on pre-cut veggies and things like that. Not that I have any problem with people who pay for convenience. My mom shops there regularly. So do I, though I really can’t afford to do so.
So anyway, this particular store is consistently on the Forbes list of top 100 companies to work for. It’s actually pretty high up there on the list, which is of the reasons I filled out an online application for my husband while he was busy working 12-hour shifts at a dead end job. And when he got the job, I was happy – I mean, really happy, like givethemanaBJ happy (which I really should have done, but didn’t). It’s been pretty great, because we get so much more family time. He’s home for dinner every night. He has taken over the kids’ bath time, which I’ve always hated, and he helps put them to bed. Plus we have things like dental insurance, which we need.
Another nice thing is that the kids and I can pop in and visit him whenever we’re in the area. The kids looove visiting Daddy at work! We usually go see him once a week. We went in today.
As I walked toward him, trying to maneuver my double stroller around the other shoppers, I see that he and another guy he’s working with are talking to a woman – a woman who was probably in her mid-40s, wearing an outfit made entirely of spandex. I’d call it workout gear, but she also had a blow out and a face full of makeup so it didn’t look like she was on her way to or from the gym. But then again, this is Jersey, so full makeup and hair at the gym isn’t all that unusual…
I’ll try to describe the way she was standing. She had one leg propped up on the shopping cart with that knee bent. It’s kind of like the position described on the directions for inserting a tampon – one foot on the floor and one leg propped up on the tub. Except her leg was on the shopping cart and her spandex-clad crotch was facing my husband.
Then it got awkward.
If I hadn’t had the kids with me, I would have turned and walked in another direction. But they had already seen him and were yelling, “Daddy, DADDY!!” He turned the shade of a beet and sort of froze. I stammered, “Uh, you’re busy, I’ll just come back when we’re leaving.” Co-worker and the woman went on talking like I wasn’t standing there. Then my husband finally came out and said hello to his children.
So he tried to act all normal with me and the kids while this woman, who was still showing her crotch, was about 15 feet away. I asked him who she was, and he said she was a friend (or regular customer) of his co-worker. Oh and she’s a fitness trainer. But he doesn’t know her and wasn’t talking to her. So why was he so red in the face? Because, according to him, he was laughing at the other guy who was flirting with her.
She finally goes to walk away, and makes sure she walks directly next to my husband, while first looking at my children and then giving me a look.
Now I used to be a very jealous person. I was always suspicious and never hesitated to say so. But in the last few years, I’ve matured. I’m not like that anymore. Or I wasn’t until today.
Here’s the thing. A woman feels it in her gut when there’s something to worry about. Many years ago, I was a kid working a summer job in a restaurant. There was a cook that I had the biggest crush on. Only thing was, he was almost twenty years older than me and married. But being the stupid kid I was, I didn’t see that as much of an issue, so I flirted my little butt off. One day, I had stopped in on my way to the beach to pick up my pay check. By coincidence, he had stopped in with his family to show them around the place. I didn’t speak to him, I didn’t even say hi, I just gave a quick wave and walked away. Next time I worked with him, he said his wife wouldn’t stop questioning him about who I was. I was confused because not only had we never done a single thing more than flirt, I also had barely even acknowledged him in front of her that morning. But she knew there was something to be worried about because she felt it when she saw me. And she was right, because a few weeks later, it went beyond flirting.
So now I’m her. Now I’m wondering just what I interrupted today. Was it really nothing? Or is it something I should be worried about. Even if it was something, it’s not like he would have confessed right then and there. He’d lie. Right? Ugh.