posted by susan-oh-susan / march 22 at 9:20 pm / uncategorized / 22 comments
I went to Marcella’s store again this morning.
Because. You know.
And after work? I finally went to Safeway.
I wasn’t going to go find him… I was just going to shop. And maybe…
But do you know what he did?
Well, what he must have done is as soon as he saw me, he must have left his cubby. Or maybe he was on a break. Anyway, there I was—not in our aisle, not in Aisle Three, but in the bulk aisle, debating Florentines or macaroons or both, when all of a sudden, hands on my shoulders, and a swivel. And a long-fingered hand around my wrist. A kiss, and the brush of a scruffy cheek on my palm, my wrist. Lips in the inside of my elbow.
“That is all I can do in a public place.”
I finally looked up.
He is so beautiful.
I was so red.
“Your interpretation of Persian cuisine was like a taste of heaven,” he said. “It is impossible to give you enough thank-yous, Soo-zaahn.”
I turned redder.
“I can’t ever cook anything for you, because I would not dare,” he said. “But is there something I can do for you? Is there something you need?”
I didn’t think it was possible to turn redder. But I did.
“Yard work,” I blurted out.
“What?” he said.
“My son is gone—it’s the first time he’s away, they’re both away in the spring,” I said. OMG, why do I keep on reminding him I’m so old? But at least I didn’t mention that my husband just left me. I did actually do this—deep breath, and stern admonishment to self: Susan, do not mention your husband. “And I need to… you know, get the garden ready. For spring.”
He didn’t say anything.
Oh. God. Of course. He was just being polite.
“It’s very hard work,” I said. “I’ll just hire someone.”
“You will not. I will do it all for you,” he said. Imperiously. Yes. That is the word. He said it—imperiously.
I had no bones in my toes or knees, and I’m pretty sure my pelvis was dissolving too.
“Reza to Cash Four. Reza to Cash Four.”
We both looked up at the disembodied voice. He laughed.
“I’m wanted,” he said.
Oh yes you are, I managed not to say out loud.
“Now, Soo-zahn, I have an assignment for you. And it is very important.” He reached for a pencil and for one of the white twist ties in the bulk aisle, you know, the things you wrap around the plastic bags after you fill them with stuff? He made rapid marks on the thin strip and handed it to me. “This is my telephone number. As soon as I leave, you will type it into your phone. And you will send me a text. It will say, ‘Reza, this is Sooo-zaaaahn.’ If you don’t send me this text, I will assume I offended you and will need to quit my job so I don’t offend you again, so it is very important that you send this text. Yes, Soo-zahn?”
“Yes,” I managed to say.
“Good.” He smiled. Squeezed my hand.
22 comments on OMG OMG OMG:
ilikeherbooty-full: Boy’s got some moves.
mommyshidinginthebathroom3: Way to go Susan. I think that was actually pretty smooth. You done good.
Caspian00XO: I still don’t like him.
goddessofvictory: I’m totally trolling Tinder for Persian guys now. Just so you know, Mama Susan.
FemmeFataleFun: I hope he does your yard work without a shirt. Sigh.
susan-oh-susan: OMG. OMG. Yard work! What was I thinking! Yard work!
BeautifulThingsEveryday: I know! I was waiting for the penny to drop!
ilikeherbooty-full: What? Yard work is not… sexy?
BeautifulThingsEveryday: We live in the middle of buttfucknowhere Canada! Which means, ok, so it might be the end of March, but there’s still a foot of snow on the lawns!
susan-oh-susan: Not snow. Ice mountains. Snow that’s melted and refrozen and melted and refrozen. All the grass is under it. OMG. What am I going to do?
BeautifulThingsEveryday: Pray for a Chinook?
FemmeFataleFun: Ask him to paint your bedroom? Did you and Marcella ever get around to that?
mommyshidinginthebathroom3: Maybe he could tile your kitchen floor or bathroom or something? Is that hard? He could probably do that without a shirt on?
Caspian00XO: What’s a Chinook?
BeautifulThingsEveryday: Google it, Bat Boy.
ilikeherbooty-full: If he’s Bat Boy, am I Batman?
ilikeherbooty-full: Wait, never mind.
susan-oh-susan: Are you guys twelve? Stop it. Seriously, Marcella, “pray for a Chinook”? That’s your advice?
BeautifulThingsEveryday: Pray for a Chinook. It could happen.
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