On the Horns of a Dilemma....

One thing about living in a small town is that everyone knows everyone else.

Even if you don't KNOW someone, you know him or her. You might see the same people in the grocery store, at the "Y," at the nail salon, at the library, even if you don't know their names.

There's a woman who works at our local grocery store who is very friendly, but she gets on my nerves. She apparently thinks we're better friends than we are, because she has always been free with her complaints. She's one of those negative people, always complaining, usually about where she works. (Uh.....get a different job?) I refuse to allow her to wheel my groceries to my car, because I don't want to hear her gripe and grumble all the way across the parking lot.

Saturday I think she reached a new low. She was bagging my groceries while a young girl rang them up. They started talking about someone who works at the same grocery store, criticizing her about buying her groceries with food stamps. Negative Nancy said, "She had $1000 on her food stamp card. And she left here with four buggies full of groceries. And we're paying for that. And she has a husband, or a boyfriend, or whatever she calls him."

I was so uncomfortable I couldn't say anything. I just looked in the other direction and pretended to search for my car keys. I don't know the girl she was talking about, and it's certainly none of MY business how she buys her groceries or how much she buys. I'm pretty sure it was none of this woman's business either.

One of our neighbors is also a cashier there, and she was behind me, apparently on her break, paying for something. The loudmouth complainer spoke to her, and it appeared to me that our neighbor was a little curt toward her. As if she doesn't have much use for her either. I would be interested to know if she has the same take on the woman that I do.

I was so annoyed I was tempted to call the manager and tell him or her what happened. If I report her, am I sticking MY nose where it doesn't belong? She's bound to know who told on her, and while I don't think I should be embarrassed about it, well.... it is still a very small town. I wouldn't want her to get fired or anything, but I don't like talking to her. She makes me feel so awkward. It's not like it's a teenager we're talking about here. She's an older lady, and surely somewhere along the way someone has told her it's not nice to talk about people, it's unprofessional to talk about co-workers (in such a public way - there, I just cleared myself), and it's a cardinal sin of business to make the customer feel uncomfortable.

Maybe I will just shop somewhere else.

Fred and Francis....

When Hubby and I first married, we often hung out at the local Moose Lodge. Not only was it fairly convenient, but it was the one place we were SURE my ex couldn't show up, since he wasn't a member. That was important then, because ex was A) bitter; and B) psycho. Now he's just psycho. We don't hang out there much anymore because A) we don't like the smoke; and B) we figured out it wasn't really that much fun.

There was a couple at the Moose with whom we were casual friends. Casual as in we knew their names, and we would occasionally shoot a game of pool with them. Not too often because I suck at playing pool, and I don't like to do things I can't win at. After a couple of Zimas with grenadine, however, I could be convinced to play because I would have forgotten that the week before I hadn't been able to make anything except the cue ball and the other team's balls. But I digress.

This couple......let's call them Fred and Francis.......were always at the Moose. They were probably in their 40's, both fairly good-looking. Although he was a double-wide salesman then and has gone on to sell cars, and he looks the part. I apologize for the generalization. And for the fact that none of this has anything to do with my story.

Like many men (people?), Hubby will often say things when he's had a few beers that he wouldn't ordinarily say. One night we were leaving the Moose fairly early, and Hubby announced to those nearest us that we were going home to swim. Those nearest us happened to be Fred and Francis. "Why don't y'all come over and swim at our house?" he said.

Hubby was at this time wearing a protective brace on his ankle due to a bad sprain he suffered when he fell off a ladder. Bless his heart, he was trying to be a good son, cleaning out the gutters at his mother's house. And I was trying to be a good daughter-in-law, keeping his mother engaged in conversation so she wouldn't tell him how to go about cleaning out the gutters. Instead of holding the ladder. He wound up coming down a lot faster than he originally intended.

Fred and Francis looked at each other and agreed that it might be fun to come swim at our house. We left immediately, and they were right behind us. We got home and changed and went out to the pool. We waited and waited and waited and waited and waited....... It wasn't annoying to wait for them or anything, since we were after all A) at our house; and B) in the pool. But we were kind of curious as to what was taking them so long.

Finally they arrived, and Sweet Girl showed them through the house and out the back door to where the pool was. (Why aren't pools ever in front yards? Just curious...)

Seems what took so long for Fred and Francis to arrive was that they had stopped by their house. To get.............towels. They showed up at our house with towels. That they got from their house. That's important.

Because what they DIDN'T bring were swimsuits.

We couldn't figure out why it took a while for them to get in the pool. Fred finally stripped down to his Fruit of the Looms. (God, I was SO glad Sweet Girl didn't venture out there.) Francis just went swimming in her clothes.

Talk about awkward.

They didn't stay long, but it was the longest however long it was I've ever spent.

When they finally left, Hubby and I just looked at each other, puzzled as to what made them think it was THAT kind of invitation.

Then it occurred to me that the invitation was issued in front of everyone at the Moose Lodge.

If Fred and Francis thought it was that kind of invitation.......................................

........................................did everyone else think that too?

Oh. My. God.

We're really not that kind of people.