And so we went...

to the grocery store. An organic farmers market. I needed some produce to embark on my inner Giada and create Gooner some AWESOME baby food. Peeling pears, cutting pears, boiling pears... yep, she's worth it. Upon walking into the store there was a masseuse on duty. She had her elbow in the middle of a guy's back when she mouthed, quite awkwardly, "Your baby is cute." I smiled and whispered thank you. I promptly forgot about the lady as Gooner and I found the produce. About 15 minutes later the masseuse is standing next to my cart where she follows us around. She just starred at Gooner and every now and then glanced at me. It was strange. There were also swarms of an ethnicity that shall remain unnamed. BUT, they smelled of what they ate, the kids ran around unsupervised, and spoke in a language unknown to me. Clumps of whole families surrounded the green peppers. I said excuse me, but they just turned and starred at Gooner and me and turned back to the peppers. They picked up EACH pepper, rolled it around, sniffed it, decided yay or nay, and picked up another one. All this because of a sale, 3 for $1. They were taking advantage of the sale, the whole TRIBE. I was so annoyed. This is taboo; to not move when a lady and her baby want some green peppers. So greedy little hands crawled around my cart and I swatted away little fingers itching to grab Gooner's feet. It was wonderfully interesting.  I was over it. So after we FINALLY got our green peppers and other items, the masseuse, Gooner, and myself made it to the checkout. As I was heading out the door the masseuse bid us farewell, um yay. Seriously, I had NO clue what I was going to do if she followed us into the parking lot. Hmmmmmmm, I guess go back inside and call my husband. Or find the mace. I'm not above macing creepy people. Not for this gal...