Mulch Bandit

Why is it that you run into people you haven't seen in ten years on the one day you forget to dress like a non-slob or put on makeup because you're gardening and just dashing into Lowe's to pick up two bags of mulch for your grandparent's roses?

So, hypothetically,  you're wearing yoga pants and a rugby shirt with your hair in a ponytail so high it would be more appropriate on a two year old (but who cares because it's keeping it out of your face).  You probably have dirt smeared across your forehead and cheeks.  It's a good likelihood that you have on flip flops that have seen better days - and those better days were two years ago.

There you are, a huge bag of cedar mulch propped on each shoulder, sweaty and dirty, waiting on the cashier who is possibly the slowest person to count money in the history of the world.  There he and she are.  A former football player and a former cheerleader.  Granted, they have both put on their fair share of weight. But they are clean, they are wearing clothes that Goodwill would not give back, and they have spotted you.

Of course, they spotted you.  You couldn't heft those bags of mulch any higher to cover your head.  They head your way, but since you haven't yet made eye contact you are using all of your Jedi mind powers to try to force the cashier to count the money faster.  Why didn't you just use your credit card?  Finally, she's done.  You clutch the three dollar bills in your hand and bolt for the doors.

They call your name with a hint of question in their voices.  They think it might be you, but they haven't seen you in ages, and they think you are supposed to be living in another state.

Don't pause.  If you give even the slightest indication that you are indeed who they think you are, you're stuck. Run, my friends!

Just make sure not to accidently set off the security alarm on your way out, or that really slow cashier will prove that she is just storing up energy waiting to catch would-be mulch thieves.   Which means the people you were avoiding will catch up with you too, and you will have to stand there, sweaty, dirty, and holding a leaking bag of mulch while they prattle on about their kids.

So you plot while they babble on.... 'next time, I'll wear sunglasses.  No one recognizes me in sunglasses.....'