It's Saturday afternoon. As I'm heading home from the hospital, Mrs. Grumpy texts me to get some tomatoes at the grocers and to pick up my
Sarcasma at the pharmacy before she has to kill me.
I'd been at Marie's basketball game when the hospital called, and so was wearing an old Motörhead T-shirt. While waiting in line at the grocery store some guy came over.
Some Guy: "Hey, I like that T-shirt."
Dr. Grumpy: "Uh, thank you."
I'm generally not one for small talk, so stared at my iPhone and began checking email. Unfortunately, this didn't stop him.
Some Guy: "I'm a big Motörhead fan. I saw them in person back in the day."
Dr. Grumpy: "Cool."
Some Guy: "I love their stuff. I was busted up when Lemmy died. You know, I don't think I've ever seen that particular T-shirt. Where'd you get it?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Uh, don't remember." (
Actually, I'm pretty sure I got it at the charity thrift store for $1)
(I texted Mary asking her to call me so I can answer my phone)
Some Guy: "How much do you want for it?"
(
He didn't really say that, did he? I'll just keep staring at my phone.)
Some Guy: "I like it. How much do you want for it?"
(
For a fleeting second I think about it. I paid $1 for it... Ask him for $40 and see what he says.)
Dr. Grumpy: "No, thank you. Then I'd have nothing to wear home, and I still have errands to run."
Some Guy: "That's easy. I'll give you mine."
I look at him. He's wearing a white wife-beater undershirt with food stains and probably more antibiotic-resistant organisms than an uncleaned colonoscopy tube.
Dr. Grumpy: "Uh, no thanks."
(Mary texts me back, asking how much a call is worth to me)
Some Guy: "Your loss, dude."
He walks off. I got the tomatoes and headed over to the pharmacy. While in line there...
Some Guy: "Hey! It's you again. Did you change your mind? I came by to get some condoms. I'm still willing to switch shirts."
Dr. Grumpy: "No, thank you. I'll keep this one."
(The other people in line are looking at both of us like we're street performers)
Some Guy: "I've got a sort-of cleaner T-shirt in my car, I'll throw that one in, too."
Pharmacist: "Next in line, please."
It's my turn. Thank heavens.