EXCUSE ME! I believe I had my hand on that watermelon first!
Oh, I’m sorry — here, take it.
Thank– OH MY GOD, IT’S YOU!
Shhhhh! Please, don’t…
WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN???????
Be quiet! People are starting to stare…
Let them, and give me a hug first!
Really, I beg of you, please tone it down..
That’s better, thanks.
I just can’t believe you’re back…and in the middle of the produce department, thumping watermelons, even.
Well, you know me – ADPB girl.
True. So, let me take a look at you. Take a twirl for me.
I’d rather not.
Aw come on, nobody knows who you are, and I doubt anyone is thinking anything other than we’re two friends who haven’t seen each other in a while.
Well, put that way…okay
Okay, I understand the long skirt..some habits are hard to break, huh? But, I need a little explanation here…what the hell is going on with the wig, dark sunglasses and black beret?
I’m in disguise.
Disguise? Oh hell…..you’re still on the run, aren’t you?
Why??? Didn’t I tell you to turn yourself in?
Well, about that…
Oh, this should be good. Go ahead, I’m listening.
I was heading to Italy, fully intending on turning myself in, when “it” happened. Or, I should say “he” happened.
Why am I not surprised by this? Pony up — who is the “he” in this flimsy excuse?
Oh my god Nerd, you should see him! He is sooooooo cute!
Here we go again….lemme guess — are we 17 today? 22? I can’t tell behind the sunglasses and fake bobbed wig.
Hey, I’m an adult and that’s all you need to know. You really shouldn’t be so judgmental, ya know.
That’s my job, to keep you in line.
Since I hired you. You work for me.
And exactly how much am I being paid for this little “deal” we’ve swung with each other? What IS my cut? Cuz, I’m still waiting for that…
Well, it just so happens that you and I are “getting published”! Ha!
No kidding????? When did all this happen?
While you were gallavanting around the globe, and picking up strange men.
Oh my God–that reminds me, I still haven’t told you about my new guy!
This “unfocused” behavior is kinda starting to piss me off, muse. Can we please stay on topic for ONCE?
Well, sure…um, what is the topic?
Oooh, while you’re doing your deep breathing exercises, let me tell you about my new guy. I think this could be “the one”.
You’re not gonna let this one go until you’ve gushed all about him, are you?
He’s my life now.
That’s creepy sounding.
Well….as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me with all this talk about “being published”, I met him en route to Italy. I was coming down the coast of Russia, veered to the right, over Yugoslavia when BINGO! I saw him.
Yugoslavia? What part?
Croatia. What a beautiful country, by the way.
Yes, I know. I’ve got in laws from that area. Zagreb, if I remember correctly.
Cool! So you know how dreamy the men are? I just love brown eyes…it’s like looking into pools of liquid chocolate. I just want to fall in and lap him all up.
Slow down there, chickie. We’re still in public, ya know.
I can always go stick my head in the frozen foods department.
That might work. Just don’t leave any butt prints on the ice cream containers. The staff tends to frown on that type of behavior.
I would assume so.
Okay, so let me make sure we have our stories straight, okay?
Yep, but first — do you know where I can find the following items: Feta cheese, Romaine lettuce, garlic and olive oil?
Mmmm, sounds like a Greek salad to me.
But of course, what else would I make for my man?
Ever try Saganaki?
What’s that? It sounds yummy…
Flaming cheese. It’s a real “celebratory” food — you pan fry a coated piece of cheese in olive oil, put a little brandy in it, take it to the table, light it and, at the top of your voice, yell “OPA!” while trying not to set your eyebrows on fire at the same time. Then, douse the flames with a half of a lemon squeezed over the top. It is to DIE FOR.
Fire? You trust me around flames?
Good point, stick to the salad.
So, are we done here? My man is waiting for me back at our place.
You’re living together????
Not yet. We’ve only been dating for a week now.
If things work out, I’m going to suggest we rent a place together somewhere in Switzerland.
Why Switzerland of all places?
Netural territory. The law can’t touch me there.
Ah…So I am assuming you’re perfectly okay with being a professional fugitive, always on the move?
Beats the alternative.
And what would the “alternative” to being a fugitive exactly be?
Being stuck with the same house, same job, same city, same spouse, same kids, year after year, waiting for death to release you from life’s dull grasp.
Wow, that’s harsh. I totally disagree.
I tell it like it is. And one final thing…
Those shorts do make your ass look a little too big.
Leave now, before I alert security.