Day 1

Day 1: Got my hair done. Looks good, but not great. Mani and pedi’s are hot-sultry red. Everything has been tanned, waxed, shaved, plucked, and exfoliated. I decided to pop into my local market for lemons, and while there, see if in fact, Operation Turntable was actually do-able. I saw him in the soup isle. Any man buying soup is definitely alone and single. A quick peek into his basket confirmed my suspicion, as four cans of soup, two TV dinners, one roll of toilet paper, and a bag of pistachios, emphatically screams out single. I stood beside him, eyeing up the concentration involved with soup selection. “I like vegetable soup.” My contribution was welcomed. He smiled, I smiled, and then I sacheted (Sp?) off. Yes, I sacheted, taking care to over exaggerate the sway of my hips. I stopped half way down the aisle and looked over my shoulder, making sure he was watching. I followed the chunky soup guy throughout the store. When he was near the checkout, I hurried ahead and paid before he did. Once out of the doors, I waited. I opened my phone and engaged in a hilarious conversation with the time and weather number. At the exact moment chunky soup guy exited the store; I turned around, bumped into him, and dropped all of my lemons on the ground. “Uh sorry Mom, I’ll have to call you back later.” I apologized for being a klutz, and helped him pick up my lemons. He introduced himself as Peter, and asked if he could buy me more lemons. I declined, and told him I preferred it freshly squeezed. Peter gave me his number, and asked me to call him tonight. I agreed and walked away, knowing that I was going to make him wait.