I Really Don’t Think That Guy At Costco Was Hitting On You, Dad
Who can say for certain what the burly, wedding-ring-toting, there-with-his-teenage-son guy was thinking or fantasizing. Maybe I’m naïve, but — like I’ve since repeated, Dad — I think he was just feeling good, cruising the Meat Department, saw the package of steaks in our cart, and felt like sending along a jolly, “Nice beef you got there, partner.”
I’ll agree it’s odd to comment on other shoppers’ carts, even if the contents are particularly handsome, but it’s far more deviant to seek romance within the chilly, visceral Costco meat-scape. Be your desires a lifelong companionship or an erotic dalliance with wholesale dick, there are far better places and holes to bait, to trawl, and to chum up than the sexless noon hour on Sample Saturday.
Our stranger didn’t confirm or deny his intentions. He didn’t tantrum over unrequited meat-love. Instead, he turned and gave a little half-shrug as he tottered off on his merry way with his son and with his hamburger-laden cart towards the samples of beer cheese.
Dad, I knew this presumed flirt sent you panic-shopping and second-guessing everything. Had that extra dollop of Dove Men now made you irresistible? Was the fleece vest with a corporate bank logo asking for it? Wasn’t this Hot Pocket pallet cheaper last time? Did Mom leave because the…
