| Lately I've been amazed by the number of people who, not having a clue who I am, have attempted to tell me their life story. Example: Earlier this week I'm overcome by a craving for microwave popcorn, so I throw on my cut-off sweatpants that my boyfriend tolerates along with an old Iowa State University t-shirt for my dash to the grocery store. I approach the cash register to pay for my popcorn and get in line behind a middle-aged woman with a crazy look in her eye. I see it coming...she's reading my shirt, taking a deep breath, and then it starts..."so did you go to Iowa State?" She doesn't care about my answer, only asks the question as a segue to her epic tale of how her brother's brother-in-law's two kids went to ISU, one of them transferred to Notre Dame where he's now majoring in accounting, the other kid joined him at Notre Dame on some scholarship, she doesn't see the kids very often (um, they're not even related to you, so I'd expect not...but whatever), blah, blah, blah. By this time I've not only paid for my popcorn, but I'm now standing at the door of the grocery store drooling, trying to make a mad dash for my car without being rude. TEN MINUTES LATER I try the, "well, I've got to go," but she's talking too loud and too fast, and my attempt to halt her goes completely unnoticed. I make eye contact with other customers entering the store, hoping they'll notice the desperation in my eyes and call for help. IT'S BEEN TWENTY MINUTES NOW, and the lady isn't even looking at me anymore, she's now gazing off to the horizon as if to gear up for a deep philosophical discussion. My desire to be polite is beginning to wane. Suddenly...fate smiles. At the edge of the parking lot a car squeals its tires, causing the lady to pause just long enough for me to cut in. "I'm sorry, I left my puppy in the car with the windows rolled up, and I'm afraid he may already be dead!" (Stop your gasping, animal lovers, I don't even have a puppy). "Oh my!" She scans the parking lot for a car that looks as though it could contain an overheated puppy. "I guess you'd better go," she says, but I've already started sprinting toward my car, in a zigzag pattern in case she tries to follow. "Iowa State has such a lovely campus," I can hear her shouting, as I open the car door and jump in. |
