I saw something that – before today – I thought only small children did before their parents scolded and shamed them into never doing it again. I was in the middle of doing the activity I love SO much (grocery shopping), mindlessly plucking items off the shelf and dropping them into my cart when I was catapulted out of my stupor. I was passing by the aisle where all the magazines and books and for whatever reason -party supplies are shelved, vigorously shaking the handlebar on the cart back and forth in frustration because I had a bum wheel (I never seem to get a cart that actually wants to roll).
And what do I see? A grown man…sitting indian style on the floor, reading a magazine, full moon shining brightly at 11:00 am. He must have been in the middle of an incredible story because he didn’t even look up when I passed. I almost ran into one of the displays that are placed so conveniently in the middle of the walkways because I couldn’t take my eyes away from the scene. I corrected my direction before I collided with millions of stacked cans arranged in the shape of a can and continued my search for the elusive items on the list.
I walked by a second time after about 15 minutes of searching for a very specific kind of deodorant for Tim. He was still sitting there…in the middle of the aisle, happily turning pages like he was snuggled up in the comfort of his home. That magazine was going to be read cover to cover before he peeled his ass off the concrete floor and moved on. I almost went and put a beer and bag of chips next to him. I mean, if you’re gonna do it, do it all the way.