My mother has been wearing wigs for as long as I can remember. Why? No one knows. But every so often, those faux locks will betray her, as was the case with the flaming red “hair hat” she wore to go grocery while shopping one day.
Certain that her new look was going to cast a bewitching spell over anyone within a ten-mile radius, she grabbed her purse and headed for the doorway. While perusing the shelves, my mother said she noticed an attractive gentleman staring at her from across the room. Uncertain as to whether he was looking at her or someone else, she nonchalantly scanned the area to size up her competition. To her surprise, there was no one else around.
“I still got it,” she thought, gushing over his gallant appetite for lust, “I TOLD them this wig was special!”
As she maneuvered her way around the produce department, caressing the fruits and vegetables and breathing in their delightful aroma, she had forgotten all about her mysterious friend, until she turned her head and saw him—still staring at her with a blank look on his face.
“Who is this man?” she wondered. “And why won’t he take his eyes off me?”
Determined to confront her unshakable stalker, my mother began the long journey toward the imported cheese section where he was standing. It was her belief that this bold move was going to force him to run for the hills—brokenhearted and terrified, but when their eyes locked one last time, halfway between the condiment section and health foods, he didn’t budge. Instead, he stood still, transfixed, like a deer in headlights. Only, this time, he confused her by waving.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
One of my mother’s strengths is her ability to see the humanity in everyone, so she did what she thought was right: exposed her pearly whites and promptly waved back. She sauntered past the bakery with her eyes to the ground and eased her way over to a wheel of cheese right next to his brazen frame. “This is it,” she imagined, “It’s do or die”—and that’s when she came face-to-face with The Most Interesting Man In The World. The only problem? He wasn’t real. My mother had just made friends with a life-size, cardboard cut-out of Jonathan Goldsmith, the Dos Equis guy, who had a springboard arm inviting strangers to “come on over” and grab a chilled beverage to pair with an exquisite fromage.
My dad did the same thing a year later only it was a billboard on the side of a van, so it turns out my idiocy is totally genetic.😂😭😭😭