Another embarrassing moment

....and this blogger is getting tired of feeling embarrassed all the time...

Pandora Music Selection of the Day: Bay City Rollers Radio. (I'm embarrassed anyway, I might as well go all the way.) (Actually, it's not as bad as you might think!)

Yes, so, speaking of embarrassing moments, I had another one, for much different reasons, the other day at Superstore. I was at one of those new, self-serve check-out aisles, both kids in tow, of course, when suddenly Salesgirl Jones was there, tapping my shoulder, asking if I "minded" if she went through the carrying section of my stroller.

Mind? Mind? What did she mean, did I mind? Did I mind the implication that I might be a shoplifter? Well, yes, actually, I found the notion rather mortifying, to be honest. Did I mind if she fumbled through five pounds of disorganized garbage, some of which hasn't been removed since old H.I. was a baby, i.e. the summer of 2003? Quite horrified by the thought, actually, how thoughtful to ask! I mean, really, was there any answer I could give other than a very hearty, confident sounding, "why, no, there... you go ahead!"?? Of course not! So she went through everything (it took a while... oh, jeez, why am I such a slob????) and I'll be honest: My heart was pounding and I was sweating like a drunken Caribbean sailor. I looked as nervous as old George W. responding to a question with Very Difficult Words in it. What if old High Intensity put something in there without me knowing? What if there was something in there that LOOKED like stolen goods, but had actually been purchased on a previous visit? What if... what if... And why were they picking on ME of all people, for crying out loud??? Do I look like a thief? Do they have some sort of profile of suspicious types (haggard, unkempt, mad look of desperation in eyes) that they look for and pounce on? And if so, should I be insulted? Because I can do insulted. Oh boy, can I do insulted.

They found nothing, of course, and I left feeling, oooooh, so dirty, like I'd been strip searched. The self-serve area is very open, and there were a lot of people standing around watching, hoping, no doubt, that an incriminating jar of pickles or something would be found hidden away in the depths of my stroller and I'd be led off in handcuffs. Schadenfreudean bastards!!

(Note: The spell check is going to reject the word "Schadenfreudean." This is because I have made it up. Had I used it the other day, the word "snackage", too, would have been rejected for similar reasons. I will make up a lot of words during the course of this blog, and, may I cordially add, you are most welcome to make use of them at any time you see fit. I am doing my part, much like Shakespeare did, to help expand and develop this beautiful language of ours, and people no doubt will be thanking me for my wonderful contributions for generations to come.)

(Or not.)

See you!