Long day at the office yesterday, followed by volunteer commitments, meant I didn't get home until quite late. Currie has been on a hunger strike for the past few days...well, not really...she'll eat her crunchies but has decided that the wet food she gets which she previously loved (turkey flavored. mmm. turkey.) was no good. This started a couple of days ago. When I finally made it home last night, I saw that her breakfast was sitting uneaten and she resolutely refused to eat. any. more. turkey. So, I trudged out again, to the 24 hour SuperValu on the corner, to get her something *other* than turkey. The things we do for our animals.
Anyways, as I was there, I picked up a litre of milk and some cereal. I was still carrying my briefcase, tucked under one arm, and my groceries in the other hand. I didn't have that much. It wasn't a burden. I went and got in line at the till. The man in front of me turned around, looked at me and said, "Oh, please, let me take that from you, put it on the belt, I'm only buying cigarettes." He lunged for my things and placed them on the belt for me. I felt awkward. "Errrr, thanks," I said. "It wasn't really heavy though."
Oohhhhh, no. Was he trying to hit on me in SuperValu? At 11 pm? Really?
Yup. He tried to strike up a few conversations. I resolutely stared at the magazine racks, pretending to be engrossed in Britney's latest tragedy, and responded just enough to not seem rude, but to get the point across: NOT INTERESTED. In anything. Talking, flirting, NOTHING. NOTHING. He eventually gave up and lapsed into silence.
Finally, his turn at the cash desk came. He placed a hand on the belt to stop my things from reaching the scanner, and remarked that he didn't want the cashier to think they were his things. "Don't worry," I said cheerfully. "You don't have to pay for it!"
There was a pause. The man looked at me strangely.
"No," the man said. "I think I WILL pay for it." He turned to the cashier. "I'm paying for it." He handed the cashier his debit card.
"No, no, absolutely not, that is just fine, no, thank you, very much, NO." I was very firm. I shook my head at the cashier, who looked at me in amazement, as if to say, "What the hell did you DO to this man that he wants to buy your groceries?"
The man insisted for a few more minutes and shook his debit card at the cashier. Finally the cashier, after me protesting loudly, said awkwardly to the man, "Errr, sir, if the lady says no thank you, I can't do it." The man grumbled, "Fine, fine, fine" and paid for his cigarettes. As he waited for his debit transaction to be approved, he took out two twenties and threw them at me. "I'll pay cash then."
Again, I protested, the cashier protested, the guy in line behind me squealed (we were on Davie after all), and the two guys working the next till over laughed loudly.
"No, SERIOUSLY, I'm really fine. I make my own money. It's OK. You don't know me. You don't have to do this. I can pay." "She said it's OK sir, you're kind, but she said no, really, please take your money back." The cashier and I, both speaking over each other, protested, and I managed to force the money back into the man's hand, although he handed it back to me several times. I firmly thanked him for his kind offer. He was most offended that I wouldn't accept his money. I thought, however, that we had convinced him that he couldn't pay for my groceries, and he was on his way out the door. I thanked him once again, in a tone that was utterly final. He seemed to accept my decision. I shook his hand. He stared at me gravely. The cashier reached for my things and began checking me through. We waited for the man to leave. He stood still and looked at me again for split second.
And then he threw the twenties on the belt and ran (RAN!) out the door.
Much consternation ensued. I couldn't even run to catch up with him. The cashier, the guy behind me in line, and the other cashiers laughed and shook their heads, looking at me in amazement. I was totally flummoxed. What the hell was that guy doing?! The cashier shook his head ruefully, picked up the twenties, paid my bill and handed me the change.
"What can you do?" he said, shaking his head and chuckling.
Well, what COULD I do? It was totally bizarre. I don't think he was really HITTING on me; he didn't ask for my number, didn't ask anything about me, and really, past the first conversation, really didn't seem like your typical amorous creep. So what the hell WAS that?!
The theories that have emerged from my friends are:
1. That he was trying to accumulate reward miles/points through his debit card. However, he ended up giving me CASH anyway, so not sure what that meant.
2. The cash was counterfeit. But, he had initially offered to pay by DEBIT (see Item 1), so this one's out the window.
3. The man was my guardian angel (?!) and decided I needed $40 (the inimitable Ruby Chan, everyone. Take a bow, Ruby, your genius knows no bounds).
4. The man's pride was hurt when I initially rejected him and he felt he had to show me who was boss (in which case he's from Planet Misogyny).
5. Man was crazy.
I'm leaning towards Number 5 at the moment. Not really sure what the hell that was...and why these weird things always happen to ME. I am a weird magnet. Most of the time I enjoy it...but not after such a long day at work. Now I feel like I can't drink my milk. It's guilt milk or something.
