Holiday Perverts! Hooray!

As I was leaving Target yesterday, my sister-in-law called me, because she was feeling a bit molested and needed to share. She had just left her regular eyebrow waxing/pedicure/manicure place, next to the grocery store. She went there for a pedicure, bright red to go with the fab silver dress she's wearing to a party tonight. Today was special; she had a man pedicurist. V. was looking forward to the calf massage, but this one was different. It went up four inches past her knee, which made it a leg massage, not a calf massage, and was not what she was expecting. She said the man kept trading off with his wife (he did the massage and she did everything else) and she would watch him do the frottage leg rubbing. V. began to suspect she was the pawn in some dirty little game. The worst thing, she said, was that the massage wasn't even very good. She would have gladly suffered the assault for a decent leg massage.

Obnoxiously, I said,

"I can so top that. I was just about to call you."

Don't you just love people who have to one-up everything? She called for support after a traumatic experience and I pretended to listen, just waiting for my turn to talk. And I can't wait to tell the story again, so here goes.

As I was leaving Target, a homeless-ish* man approached me and asked for some change. In all honesty, I told him I didn't have any. I didn't explain further, but I pretty much only use my debit card and rarely carry cash. When I got to my car, I realized I had several plates of coconut pecan bars, meant for Baby J's teachers at the drop-in nursery, and that I could spare one. I strapped the baby in the car seat** and called out,

"Sir? Excuse me, sir? Are you hungry?"

He came towards me and I handed him a plate of bars. He thanked me and leaned in for a hug to show his appreciation. Full of over-educated, under-employed, lazy housewife guilt, I hugged back, more or less. Given just the smallest bit of encouragement, if you can call it that, he leaned down, rested his head on my breast...and nuzzled. Oh, yes he did. It was like getting a hug from the biggest toddler ever. I peeled his arms off and, rather than question his behavior as I would have if we met at, say, an oyster roast, I wished him a happy holiday, blessed him and left. He blessed me first, but I had been about to bless him anyway. He didn't seem offended that I didn't return his affection. Maybe he thought it was worth a try. You never know, right?

Namasté, y'all!

* I say "ish" because, for all I know, he has a home and just doesn't like to hang out there. And he likes to wander around parking lots in dirty clothes asking people for money.

** Boring clarification for anyone who is kind enough to worry about my baby's safety. There were several other people around, the baby was strapped in the seat, the car wasn't on, the weather was neither hot nor cold, the man was no more than ten feet from my car and I went to him, so he didn't come over to my car. Not that he would have done anything, but you never know. Oh! And I could see Baby J and the car the whole time.