Sunday, January 01, 2006

Be Careful What You Brag About

First rule of Blog Club: Don't talk about Blog Club. Second rule
of Blog Club: Be careful what you brag about. Yes, I am learning
to follow the rules. Seems like only yesterday, I was a-braggin'
about my date with a lesbian. Well, have I got a story for you to
ring in the New Year!

This morning (and by that I mean 12:05 this afternoon) I finally
got rolling, and went to town for some black-eyed peas and the
daily Sonic Cherry Diet Coke. I wasn't running late because I
had too much cheer last night. I don't drink. But we were up late
shooting off a .38 pistol and a 9 mm pistol to see the fire shoot
out the end, because my Hillbilly Husband had squandered the
fireworks he had been saving for 6 months to ring in the New
Year. HH has mellowed. In his younger days, he shot off an
SK47 or a Chinese assault rifle, or they're one and the same,
'cause I don't know squat about guns.

Anyhoo, anybody who can claim to be a hillbilly knows that
you have to eat black-eyed peas on New Year's Day to have
good luck throughout the year. I thought about eating them
right out of the can, like a hobo, but I guess I will cook them
with some bacon, as a side dish for some baked chicken and
broccoli with cheese, and biscuits. I know, I am exceeding the
hillbilly limit of one vegetable per meal, but I figure the added
fat of the bacon will cancel out any health benefits that may
have been gained.

Anyhoo, I stopped at the Save-A-Lot for my black-eyed peas.
And because I am Hillbilly Mom, a trip to town can not be that
simple. I also picked up some cabbage, bananas, milk, refried
beans, little chocolate donuts, bacon, polish sausage, cereal,
and beef stroganoff fake hamburger helper. As you can see, we
are quite multicultural here at the mansion.

Wake up now, here comes the Hillbilly Mom moment! I turned
down the cereal aisle, and a woman came up behind me.

"You are SO pretty!" She followed me.

"Thank you," I said, because my mamma brought me up right. She
came down the aisle next to me. She was faster than I was, since
she wasn't pushing a cart. I was trying to escape.

"You are SO good-looking! Do you have a boyfriend, or husband,
or someone?"

"Yes, I have a husband and two little boys."

"You should wear your wedding ring, then! Someone is going to
snatch you up! You are SO pretty! How old are you? About my
age, I bet!"

I didn't want to turn and look at her again. That might encourage
her. I had scoped her out in the beginning, because I thought it
might be someone that knew me from school, joking around.
But no. She was about my height, maybe in her thirties, well-kept,
not unattractive, looked to be mixed-race, very outgoing.

"Oh...I'm verrry old."

"Haha. No you're not. Somebody would be lucky to get you.
My brother would like you."

Ahh...she wasn't trying to pick me up! She was procuring for
her brother!

"Hmm...what kind of cereal was I supposed to get?"

"You are SO pretty!"

The Moral Majority representatives ahead of me had already
turned to stare, and then turned away. They must have dropped
by on their way home from church. Both man and woman were
wearing jeans and flannel shirts, buy hey, that's acceptable for
church around these parts. They had frowned at me, like I was
doing something wrong. Hey! Don't hate me because I'm SO
good-looking, people! My hopes that the woman was with them
were dashed when they turned away and scurried ahead to the
cheese/eggs/margarine cooler.

I rounded the end of the aisle and saw a worker in her red
Save-A-Lot polo shirt. She was the one who always speaks
to me, and true to form, said, "Hi." I spoke back, and my
secret admirer dropped me like a hot potato. She must have
thought she couldn't compete with a woman in uniform.

I quickly grabbed the rest of my items, and headed to the check-
out. My admirer had honed in on my beauty beacon, and appeared
behind me. I made small talk with the 110-year-old checker, and
ignored my stalker. IT WORKED. I boxed up my stuff and hustled
out to the large SUV and took off for Sonic. What an odd way to
start the new year.

Why did I find this unsettling? This woman did not seem to be in
possession of all her faculties. Let me rephrase that, in my Hillbilly
Mom "Liason-for-Politically-Incorrect-People-Everywhere" way:

She wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
She only picked up 51 cards in the game of 52-card pick-up.
Her porch light was on, but nobody was home upstairs.
She had one wheel in the sand.
She was one brick shy of a load.
She was half a bubble off on a six-inch level.
Her method of transportation was the short bus.
She stood in the wrong line when brains were handed out.
Her mental equivalent was a box of rocks.

There is no group home in that area. Where did she come
from? I kept hoping she was there with sombody in the store.
But she checked out on her own. Did she drive there? Did
someone send her in to get something? She bought a frozen
apple pie. I hope somebody was taking care of her. Aside
from the obvious clues, there are other reasons I could tell
something was off:

I am so not SO pretty! My lady-mullet, L'Oreal dark brown
hair was showing its true white color at the roots, and had been
styled by the wind into an oh-so-unflattering clump of Medusa

I was wearing my favorite New Balance shoes with the piece
of sole that flaps loose with each step.

I wear no make-up, the better to show off my old-lady age
spots and dark circles under the bags under my eyes.

I have a bruise on my arm from giving a blood sample at the
hospital-that-lets-people-wake-up-during-surgery Friday.
A bruise that would make a heroin addict proud.

My pants had horizontal dirt lines from brushing against the
running board of the large SUV while getting in and out.

I am extra-fluffy from too much holiday cheer such as Chex Mix
and stocking candy.

I am baffled. I used to think that everything happens for a reason.
What was this reason?


Blogger LanternLight said...

I thought in the HillBilly armoury, there'd be a scatter gun or two...
Nothing like a shotgun to blast tin cans, bottles and road signs.

Maybe "Supermarket Woman", just recognised royalty when she saw it.

That, or she has a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock. :-)

4:56 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Yes, we have a gun or 40 lying around the mansion. Well, they are locked up because of the boy young 'uns.

That woman must have been psychic! I wasn't even wearing the Royal Crown of Hillmomba!

5:12 PM  
Blogger Chickadee said...

Gah, she sounded downright CREEPY.

Or maybe

One short of a 6-pack
Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier
A few fries short of a Happy Meal?

Hope you don't run into her again.

8:24 PM  
Blogger Northend Nique said...

YUM! Black eyed peas. My family will not eat them and yes, I have resorted to eating them straight out of the can. Now, my step-mother (she's from Georgia, didn't even have indoor plumbing til the late 70's) would be HORRIFIED... #1 I bought them in a can. Alas, I came to mention the traditional New Year's meal... Black eyed peas and GREENS... you made no mention. Peas:Luck, Greens:Money.

12:01 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

I will beware when I shop at Save-A-Lot next time. But oh-so-quietly, I will be humming, "I feel PRETTY, oh so PRETTY, I feel PRETTY, and witty, and GAAAYYYYY!" On second thought, that might not be such a good idea.

My husband didn't have indoor plumbing until he graduated from high school and got his own house. That was in the mid-70s.

No greens. My mother told me I should have some black-eyed peas and some cabbage. Hopefully, not combined. I guess the cabbage is for "money".

12:21 AM  
Blogger Rebecca said...

Hi Hillbilly Mom,
Oh she sounds so cute, you should have taken her home.
So you eat Black Eye Peas for good luck at the new year. What other strange Hillbilly traditions do you care to tell us about HM? Let me guess, on the first day of autumn, you all exchange last seasons underwear with each other?

PS: Word Verification "bidch", well it was close to what I am. lol

12:58 AM  
Blogger LanternLight said...

And there's The Chum Song from the 1930's, made popular in Australia by Graham Kennedy:
Being a chum is fun,
That is why I’m one,
Always smiling, always gay,
Chummy at work and chummy at play,
Laugh away your worries,
Don’t be sad or glum,
And everyone will know that you’re a
Chum, chum, chum.

3:36 AM  
Blogger Misha said...

Aww, Hillbilly Mom, give yourself some extra cred. I bet you're the hottest Hillbilly Mom out there!

A compliment is a nice thing, but not when it starts bordering on creepy. Really, there are better ways to compliment someone than getting in their face and stalking them around a shop. Eek!

3:57 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

That's just what I need...another crazy around the house. Traditions? We put our junk out in the yard and call it a "yard sale." Then we go to somebody else's yard and buy their junk.

My word verification is looking out for me, I see.

I'm making a Note to Self: Do not refer to Lantern, Rebecca, Misha, Rachy, or Huggies as a "chum." It doesn't have that meaning here.

I can't explain it. The crazies are attracted to me. One time a guy with no clothes on pulled his car over to the sidewalk next to me, where I was walking along, minding my own business, to ask me the time. Just think, he singled ME out to ask the time! I'm so special.

6:05 PM  
Blogger Redneck Diva said...

Ohhhhhhhh myyyyyy. That'll teach you to buy black eyed peas!

I didn't even get offered any black eyed peas this year, thank God. I am not a fan of the black-eyed legume.

Mr. Diva goes deer hunting with his SKS. It's a good thing he's a bad shot and doesn't actually hit anything because I don't think there'd be much deer left after getting hit with a semi-automatic weapon. Just some hair and the scrap of an antler. Eek.

10:30 AM  
Blogger Rebecca said...

Hi Hillbilly Mom,
Chum is also the name of a dog food you can get here. "Ahh Chum. So chunky, you can carve it." [note, said with a Scotish accent]
(So chunky, you can....)

5:00 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home