Oh, wait! That's ALL THE TIME FOREVER.
Let's face it: I love this young man. If you must know why, I am happy to recap:
- He was ... not skilled at bagging groceries. He would not make eye contact with anyone and seemed to wish the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
- Months later, I noticed him retrieving carts. He was smiling with beautiful, movie star teeth. Later, I saw him getting picked up from work. He let out an exuberant "Woo-hoo!" to celebrate the end of the workday.
- Months after that, he bagged my groceries ... with the canned goods on the bottom and the produce on the top. But that is not even remotely important. What's important is that this man who would barely acknowledge anyone now looked up and told me to have a nice day.
Y'all, I am going to tell you want happened last time I was at the HyVee.
The woman with the fabulous earrings was checking out my gajillion groceries. And she made a little joke to my bagger boyfriend, and he laughed and joked back. And then? Then, he started singing along to the Shania Twain song on the Muzak. He knew all the words.
Now, I would like some sort of award or at least a participant's ribbon for keeping my shit together. I acted so cool, like it was no big deal that my bagger boyfriend was comfortable in his own skin, like I hadn't been witness to a slo-mo miracle over the last four years.
I channeled my inner 14-year-old and acted like nothing impressed me. I didn't even get excited when my bagger boyfriend asked if I needed help out to my car. I answered "no" because let's be honest - the temptation to kidnap him would be too great.
I channeled my inner Fonzie and was so cool, but then I smiled all the way out to my car, and the whole time I was loading the car, and basically the whole ride home.
Going to the grocery can make me moderately homicidal. The lack of cart etiquette alone is ... challenging. I'm worried that all my wrath means I miss out on all the good stuff around me. So, I focus on my bagger and try to go from there.
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