Flirtation & Fashion Shows in the Produce Section

Flirtation & Fashion Shows in the Produce Section

I was having lunch with a couple of French friends when the subject of grocery shopping came up.  One might expect that walking into a store, looking for food & paying for it would basically be the same from one place to another.Basically, that's true.  Basically.What surprised them was when I mentioned the fact that on occasion, an American shopper might be hit on in the grocery store.  Of course, we all know that the frozen food aisle isn't exactly ladies' night with half off Tequila shooters, but it does happen.  There's even a movie about it, though I won't be surprised if you haven't seen it.I told my friends about an incident that took place about 10 years ago.  I was in the soup aisle of King Soopers trying to make a serious decision between Progresso & Wolfgang Puck.  Unshowered, in dirty sweatpants & T-shirt, all I cared about at that moment was the can of soup that would...
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Becoming a Germaphobe

Becoming a Germaphobe

I used to laugh at germaphobic freaks like me.  I'd see them with their Lysol, alcohol pads & sanitizing gel, talking about "that bug that's been going around" & I would shake my head & laugh.Paranoid freaks.Sitting at my desk, in the office where I worked, I'd watch my coworkers as they passed around a can of Lysol.  "Keep that shit away from me," I'd tell them.  When someone would offer me an alcohol pad to wipe the germs away from the receiver of my phone, I would reply with a "thanks, but I like my phone dirty".I was a drinking, pack-a-day smoker, happily surrounded by millions of dirty microscopic organisms & I enjoyed watching my coworkers sniff, sneeze & hack among the sound of misting Lysol.Not because I'm that sadistic, but because I never got sick.Then I moved to Paris.Once I moved to Paris, I moved about the city the same way as millions of other Parisians: public transportation. ...
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