Hey Heather! Life, here … I haven’t thrown you enough shitty curve balls lately, chocked full of awkward and hair pulling situations … so I’m going to send you a real doozy today!
I’m pretty sure that’s what happened, and while I’m not complaining I’m also not jumping for joy at having run into Hello Kitty Toaster and “…go fuck yourself off” today.
I’m really getting ahead of myself, here. Maybe the six mini-bags of Cheez-Its I binge-ate to help myself cope with the awkwardness have gone to my head.
For those of you that don’t know, Hello Kitty Toaster is my sister-in-law and “…go fuck yourself off” is my brother-in-law (her husband). Recently, things have gotten a little awkward – mostly owing to the fact that my husband and I don’t often attend family events; and that they are pretty much the exact opposite of what we are, in every way imaginable. Most recently, Hello Kitty Toaster and I got into a little bit of a tet-a-tet on Facebook over whether it’s better to clean the house yourself, or hire the help. “…go fuck yourself off” and I don’t talk that much anymore either, since he told me to go fuck myself off…
So we went to Target to stock up today on things like toothpaste and juice boxes; your typical Target purchases. Standing in line, my phone rang and I answered just to say “call you back, in line at Target” and then out of nowhere the loudest yelp I had ever heard in line at a retail superstore called out my name.
After jumping, realizing who had yelled my name, and simultaneously wishing I could activate that badass Star Trek cloaking device the Klingons always used to stay hidden, I then (of course) put on my fakest smile possible and responded:
Oh! Hello, Hello Kitty Toaster
What are you doing here?
What I wanted to say: Oh, you know… just taking a leisurely stroll down the aisles to look at all the cleaning supplies we don’t have to buy because our cleaning lady handles that for us.
What I really said: Oh, just stocking up on things … toothpaste, laundry detergent, that kind of stuff. What about you?
OH, so Brooky is out of food!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE SHE EATS THIS MUCH FOOD?!
[Insert extra large bag of dog food, and yes – Hello Kitty Toaster’s dog is named Brooklyn, like the bridge although I’m fairly certain HKT has no idea what or where that is.]
Oh … wow … that’s … a lot … of food … … … … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
[Insert awkward moment where we realize we have finished checking out at the same time and will be walking in the same direction.]
Walking out the door, we’re saying good-bye and I’m lying and saying we have to stop by the restroom, and “…go fuck yourself off” turns around, an extra large ICEE in hand. I shit you not, faithful blog followers – an extra large ICEE. This is important because I haven’t seen them in person since maybe last summer. I’ve seen a few photos on Facebook, but as for in person not a once. In those photos, I had noticed that “…go fuck yourself off” had gained a little weight. He’s married now, it happens.
Today, though, as he turned around with an ICEE larger than my head in hand, I realized that he is well on his way to morbid obesity. By my count, the dude now has four chins.
What I wanted to say: Go fuck yourself off.
What I really said: Oh, hi, yeah, just shopping, stocking up on stuff, toothpaste, laundry detergent, you know
OH MY GOD! BROOKY’S FOOD IS SO HEAVY! WE HAVE TO GO FOR DRINKS SOON!!!
Yeah that would be great.
Oh, yeah – that would be great. We’ve gotta’ get to the bathroom. See you later.
We then adjourned to the Target restroom where we stood outside if for about five minutes, waiting long enough to make sure Hello Kitty Toaster and “…go fuck yourself off” had made their way out of the parking lot. Then I went home and ate six mini-bags of Cheez-Its to make myself feel a little less awkward about the encounter.
Good times over here!