Sunday, July 31, 2011

Goon Magnet

I guess things have been boring around here because I haven't blogged in a while.  That or I just don't have any poop stories worth sharing.  We've been crazy busy so maybe that's why there haven't been any crazy antics happening.  Today the whole family went to lunch and to run some errands.  I pretty much can't go in public without making a new friend.  I am a goon magnet.  I come by it naturally.  My mom also possesses the goon magnet jean and I can already tell that I'm passing it on to Libby.  I'm not embarrassed about it folks.  What can I say?  I have a friendly face.  The problem is that sometimes, I can't just walk away.  I'm just too nice.  (For those of you that have heard I'm only nice 2 hours a day and I never waste it on my husband, obviously, he's lying.)

Anyway, usually my goon magnet-ness doesn't get me in trouble.  But sometimes, it leads to awkward situations.  For example, let me tell you about today...

We went out for lunch and I needed to go wash my hands.  I'm standing at the sink, lathering up when in walks a nice woman.  I pay no attention and then she starts talking to me.  Of course, I have to partake in the conversation.  She's a nice African American lady and looks pretty harmless in her halter style sundress.  This is what she says :

"Girl, don't think that I'm crazy when you see what I'm about to do!"
At this point - I probably should have just left.  Will I never learn?
She proceeds to pull a bra out of a shopping bag and take the tags off of it.
"Today is my birthday and my sister doesn't believe that I'm a 36DD so she bought me this bra.  I'm gonna try it on and prove to her that it fits."
I'm drying my hands and wish her happy birthday (remember - I'm nice, it's what I do).  I'm thinking she's going to go into one of the stalls.  Wrong.  Down comes the halter dress.
At this point, I'm shocked.  AWKWARD!  The bad part is, she's still talking to me and I can't just walk away! What to do, what to do?  Luckily, she stops talking to take her other bra off and I wish her good luck and dart out.  Yes, I wished her good luck!  It was a nice bra - for her sake, I'm hoping it fit!
Anyway, I get back to the table and start laughing.  I tell the husband that I just saw some boobies and of course he just laughs and says "Goon Magnet".

Not 20 min. later, we are getting groceries and some lady asks if she can borrow my husband for a minute.  I tell her she can have him for much longer than that but she just needed him to reach 15 different yogurts that she couldn't get to!  He loves when my goon magnet-ness effects him!

All that being said,  I really don't mind being a goon magnet.  Granted, I've met some real doozies but I've also helped lots of people too.  Sometimes it's an extra 20 minutes at the store because I can't walk away from the old lady telling me about what brand of toilet paper she prefers.  But that's okay.  Maybe I was the only one she got to talk to that day.  Maybe that makes me a goon too but you know what?  I'm okay with that too.  Trust me, I've been called a lot worse!