The One That Got Away

A few weeks back I was grocery shopping at our local Stop & Shop. It was midmorning, a weekday, and the ideal time for the grocery hunt. Lines are minimal, produce is plentiful and the deli staff was still pleasant.

While in the canned vegetable aisle, I noticed an elderly lady at the opposite end. Since we were the only two shoppers in the aisle, she wasn’t hard to notice. As I was reading a label, I heard the most unnaturally loud sound coming from her direction. It wasn’t dainty or feminine, like the guilty party. Unaffected and unfazed, she continued her shopping footloose and fancy-free.

I giggled then looked around, curious if anyone else at heard. For selfish reasons, I was grateful no one else was near; blaming it on an old lady is like blaming it on the dog. I froze and stared, expecting a reaction.  There was no exchange of glances or an embarrassing smile followed with an, “Excuse me.”  How could she not hear her ducks quacking in aisle 5? Then it quickly dawned on me, she didn’t care who heard it.  

I began thinking of all the funny times I’ve been in public when such unexpected poppers happen. There are situations when you’re innocently trapped, others far from confinement, yet the lingering evidence is still unavoidable. Sometimes it has a tendency to camp out, even under the most extreme wind conditions.

When my teenagers do it, I’ve come to expect or even prepare myself for such torture. But when I’m greeted by the unexpected, it’s not particularly pleasant. 

I understand that the unexpected slips tend to be unavoidable. But it’s entertaining to poke fun, incorporating a little humor, at the little (and not so little) poppers of Mother Nature.