So, the other day my wife went grocery shopping. I’m glad for that, because it’s among my least favorite things to do. I mean it’s not “doing your taxes” bad, but’s not fun either. I mean if we hit the store, I’m in the cafe area writing. And maybe sipping a beer (yes, this grocery has a beer garden. Cool, right?).
Besides when I shop, I usually forget what I’m there after, and get things we
don’t need (chocolate is essential, right?) <--In over twenty-one years of marriage this strategy has yet to work. She still sends me (from time to time).
So I keep coming home with the good stuff.
Anyway, on the day I alluded to above, she’d done the shopping, and brought the goods home.
Picture the scene:
Grocery bags are in the backseat of my Scion xB (we switched that week due to car problems), so she’s bent over, reaching in to get what she can carry before making another trip. She straightens up, turns around, and is surprised to see a man (who isn’t me) standing behind her.
She screams. He screams, and jumps about six feet off the ground. He runs away.
Only later does she realize it was our new neighbor. Because we haven’t gotten to know him yet, I’ll call him “Ivan.” I say that because we have overheard him speaking in some kind of Slavic tongue.
So Ivan it is.
In relating the details to me, my wife can’t quite put her finger on what Ivan’s intentions were. Because he never spoke to her! That’s right: he stealthily encroached inside her comfort zone without so much as a “By your leave.”
So we still don’t know: did he want to help her with the groceries, or was he checking her out? Because I’ve heard that, even in Soviet Russia, one announces one’s presence when approaching someone unawares.
Or as Yoda would say: “The creeper is strong with this one.”
What do you say? Have you ever had anything like this happen to you? As John Quinoñes asks: “What would you do?”