Seriously, I was. In the grocery store. Ok wait, I should clarify, she was actually ahead of me in line but every 10 seconds or so she would turn and look at me with this old lady look of wrath. She did that same routine about 5 times before she was done checking out. I started to wonder if I had a boogie hanging from my nose, or maybe my zipper was down, or maybe when playing with the kids at work I got marker on my face, or maybe she noticed that it's close to when I have to get highlights in my hair, or maybe she liked my purse, or maybe she liked my shoes (SOME people DO like my shoes, Beth). She finished checking out and I kid you not, went over to the Halloween candy up front and started to play with it, all the while looking in my direction. Never once looking at the candy. I have to say that I was getting a little nervous, until I remembered that she was an old lady and I might be able to outrun her. Maybe. But I wasn't wearing good running shoes, and I was also buying 2 and a half gallons of milk and some fake Mountain Dew. That's a lot to carry. But I made it past her and ran into someone I knew in the parking lot and chatted, keeping an eye on the doors for Grambo.
I got home and told Dion and my mom the story, and they thought she was looking at my sweatshirt. Want to know what it says?
"My oncologist is my homeboy"