No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service

Many, many, far too many years ago during the hottest month of the year, I stopped by my local grocery store to pick up a few things on my way home from a long, long, far too long day at work.

The parking lot was full. You could smell the heat coming off of the pavement. People walking to and from their cars were not smiling.

It was a miserable day.

Once inside the store, the cool air was ever so refreshing. As I walked up and down the aisles, people appeared to be a bit happier. Some even smiled.

That’s when I saw him. A man. Holding a small shopping basket. He was not wearing a shirt.

A shirtless man was in the grocery store shopping without a shirt!

Holy cow!

Holy cow!

To be honest, I might not have said “Holy cow!” and maybe it was more like “What the fuck!”.

As I was ready to check out (in more ways than one), I asked the cashier if I could see the manager. She paged him. Our conversation went something like this …

Me: “There is a man in the store, and he’s not wearing a shirt.”

Manager: “I know. He just wanted to pick up a few things, and he said he was hot.”

Me: “Well, I’m hot, too, so maybe I should take off my blouse.”

Manager: “No! Don’t do that and I will ask him to leave.”

Once outside with my groceries, I saw “shirtless man” standing next to his car putting on his shirt.

I seem to recall the store manager was not around for very long … something about transferring to another store.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

Bad To The Bone
by George Thorogood and the Destroyers

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