Several years ago, while a midlife graduate student, I worked part-time for a specialty breads bakery. Often I accompanied the owner to home & garden shows and the like where she would have a booth. I helped slice the breads into bite-size samples and put toothpicks into them.
I won’t get into the disgusting behavior of people who would reuse toothpicks for other pieces, drop their toothpicks everywhere, and the sample vultures who would clear a tray out and never buy.
But I can’t forget one non-customer.
I live in a state that loves college basketball, and the loyalties and rivalries are devoted. The owner had purchased, as a Christmas gift for her husband, a large framed and matted photo taken after their favorite team’s recent championship victory. She had it propped up in the rear of the booth, but anyone could see it, and we received a handful of good-natured comments.
One very tall, robustly built man came up to the booth accompanying his wife. As the owner chatted with the wife, I saw the husband eyeing the photo. I was at the opening between the booth and the walkway where he was standing. I made a passing comment along the lines of, “Oh, I see you’re wearing a ____ shirt, did you enjoy seeing the game?”
In response, he grabbed me and drew me to him. I’m five feet tall and came up to his sternum at best. My face got mashed into his chest. Over my head, he said, “This is NOT a ____ shirt. Do you see the logo? It’s different!”
He let go and I backed away. Calmly, I said, “No, I guess I missed it.” (The color was about the same, and the logo was pretty faded. It bore a resemblance to the university’s logo.) He stalked off and the wife hastened after him, as if used to this sort of thing.
We were busy with other customers, and I don’t think the owner saw the exchange, so I just let it go. But it still creeps me out. 0821-10
Must have been a Duke fan. hee hee hee!