Last Thursday, I was craving a chicken caesar salad. I had half an hour before my lifeguarding shift started, and Sunset Groceries deli-fresh salad bar was calling my name.  I thought, “Hey, I’ll just run in, scoop up one of those pre-made containers with the Parmesan shavings already rationed out, and go to work.” At the time, it didn’t even register that I was rocking my navy blue one-piece, with GUARD embroidered across the chest. Waistband rolled Soffes? Why not, it’s not like I was going to see anyone worth impressing in the deli line. Thursday at 1:30 PM was prime time for soccer moms, not soccer players.

Weaving in and out of the deli displays, my salad search came up empty-handed. Lunchables, guacamole, pineapple chunks, but no grilled chicken-y goodness. I finished a few more unsuccessful laps before surrendering myself to the deli line. Maybe the salads were just so delicious that they hid them behind the counter, I reasoned, a treat for the persistent customers. Besides, I needed to get to work. There were lives to be guarded, flip flop tans to perfect.

“Number 96?”

I looked up. HOLY CRAP. I blinked. HOLY FREAKING HELLA CRAP. There, behind the deli counter, sporting a white apron and what appeared to be an ill-fitting hairnet, stood my Big Ex. The one I had not seen since our drawn-out, emotionally-draining, mentally-exhausting December break-up.  Read More »

I was working late on a Friday night and the guys at work convinced me to hang out at the bar afterward. My mom was in town, so I went to a little martini bar with her after work and actually stayed out pretty late (for her).  When she went back to the hotel at just past midnight, I called the guys to ask where they were.  They all answered they were in a local dive bar not too far away.  I headed over and did a couple rounds – they were nowhere to be found. I texted, called – nothing. So I decided they were having too much fun to answer at that moment (we’ve all been there) and I sidled up to the bar to have a drink and wait for a bit.  No sooner had I ordered than some creeper had latched on.  I was trying to be polite, but made it clear I was waiting for people.  He kind of smirked and asked, “Well, where are your friends, then?”

“Um…I don’t know. They’ll be here soon.”

“Well, while you wait, you can sit at my table.”

Meh.  I wasn’t doing anything, so I headed over and stood near his table with his friends (also creepers).  After about three minutes, I decided that more drinking was needed.

“Oh wait, I see my friend at the bar. Sorry!” I practically ran away, desperately searching for any guy standing alone.  Bingo. Japanese guy with his back to me. I rushed up to him and tapped his shoulder.  “Hi, this is weird, but I need you to pretend to know me because I need rescuing from those guys over there in the booth.”

He looked bemused and simply shrugged his ascension. Read More »