Mall Cart Love

CarThis strange thing with the Pirate Queen has me doing other strange things. Things I've never done before. Things involving bootstraps, bed knobs and broomsticks and other Disney surprises.  Next week is Tarantino week. That's got me a little disturbed.

 

"Bring out the gimp."

 

That's next week. This week is a little mouse and tickle. That's why I'm in the mall at 10:00 A.M..  Well sort of why. I'm in the mall at ten because Monday's the PQs first day at work and she wants to dress to the nines.

 

My man side rears it's ugly head while she's getting her pedicure.

 

"Would you like an appointment, sir?"

"Me?” I shake my head like Scooby Doo hearing the word “ghost.” I backpedal, “No!  I'm just visiting."

 

My virility threatened, I hoist up my dress and run like a little girl from the salon.

 

See?  That's a foreign place to me. I was raised a man. We take care of our toenails the old fashioned way: with our teeth, on the couch, during a ball game.

 

"Kiss me my pirate!"

"Uhm, is that toe jam between your teeth?"

 

Yeah, I'm Don Rob Juan, but I'm comfortable with that. The Queen seems to be too. I'm also more comfortable outside the salon. I used to work in a mall. These outside people are my people.

 

"Pierce your nipples, sir?"

 

Ok, maybe things have changed. In my day, girls said "hello" first.

 

Another thing that's changed are mall carts. When I worked in the mall, aisle the space between store fronts was for stampeding only. Nobody put a cart there because it was like trying to open a smoothie hut in the middle of the Mississippi. You can try it, but you’re more likely to find the wreckage on the Macys delta.

 

Now they've dammed things up with little bling shacks manned by bored college kids in high chairs. At least that's what I used to think. While waiting for the PQ's nail primer to dry I observed the kiosk people.

 

There are actually many different personalities there. There are the high chair kids, but there are also the cell phone zealots selling service and preaching call plans that last till the end of the world.

 

Then there are the normal folk; everyday people making s buck. I sat and watched a middle aged man and woman pull down the tarp and roll out their wares next to each other.

 

"Good morning!" he smiled.

"Good morning to you." she tilted her head a little and the line of her lip went straight up. There was obviously something there.

 

That started me wondering. I was always taught not to poop where I eat.

 

"Robby, get your hairy butt off the good china!"

 

When it came to dating in the workplace, I took that seriously. I didn't  do it. I'd known others who'd tried, but when things go wrong with the girl in house wares, there you are pooping on the plates once more.

 

Is it the same way in the new world of mall carts too?  If things don't go right, can you just pick up your cart and go home or are you stuck playing house next to somebody you can't stand?

 

"Good morning!"

"Screw you!"

 

Yeah, that makes it just like a bad marriage.  Nobody wants to see that. It looks like this couple is taking it slowly though. I hope it works. Some day they'll take it past "good morning."

 

"You ready?" That's the Pirate Queen. She's done and she looks gorgeous. Of course I’d think that if she sat on the couch, ankle folded up, big toe disappearing past her lips. I’m wild abut the woman.

 

"Not quite. I'm taking it slow."