26: "Are you expecting?"

So, it all started yesterday after work. I was excited to be watching my Office return after a long, long summer without. But, first I needed to get my walk on. I walked my three miles and rushed home to see my show. I wanted to have time for a nice, hot shower before the show.

I was feeling good, too. "My jeans are looser," I told my walking buddy, J. "I'm so glad we're keeping up with it!"

I had finished walking and had just left J's house, where we usually meet up to walk. My phone rang, and it was my hubby, asking me to pick up a few things from the store. I was, after all, passing right by it. I reluctantly stopped.

"I am not even dressed right. I'm wearing this little tank top and I just don't feel like seeing anyone ..." I was telling my hubby this, all while walking in the store. It was too late. I was in ... there was no turning back from the grocery store.

It was fine, but a little bit cold. Man, I was wishing I had my favorite green sweatshirt. I got the things I needed all while chatting quietly with my step-sister Jessica, who lives in Ohio. We hung up when I had to get in line. All was good. The cashier was an older woman -- maybe in her 60s -- with dark hair and painted-on eyebrows.

"How much can I write the check over here?"

And I was trying to do the math in my head, when she said "Are you expecting?"

I stopped in my tracks. And I looked at her and said -- with a straight face -- "Don't you know the rule? ... You don't ask a woman if she's "expecting" unless she's, like, on the way to the hospital to GIVE BIRTH."

The bag boy, a young, 20-something college kid, hung his head and just shook it slowly from right to left, as if to say ... "You did not just say that!"

I don't even know if she apologized. I really don't remember, probably because all I could hear was the sound of blood rushing to my head. But, she started talking about her kids and how she thought that ...

"well, when I had my kids, I would get confused a lot and when you talked about the math with the check ..."

Imagine the surprise when I really had nothing to say back.

The bag boy, who wore the name tag "Dylan" on his green shirt, looked so embarrassed. A red head, his cheeks turned bright red. I was waiting for my receipt when Dylan asked me "Can I help you out, please?"

"That's cool," I told him.

And as soon as we stepped out into the cool, crisp evening air, he said "You do not look pregnant! I am so sorry. I just can't believe she even said that!"

"I know, right?" I said. "I can see that you know better than to say things like that! Well, you know, I had two kids in like two years ... and I am trying to lose weight, just came from walking ..."

He was shaking his head profusely in agreement. "I could totally tell that you just came from working out ... I could totally tell."

I was so upset until the bag boy just amused me so. He was so funny, so concerned that my feelings were hurt. Plus, he says that I do not look like I am expecting! Woo hoo! Well, I guess the bag boy has more sense than the cashier.

Man, the last time I ventured away from "my" Publix and went to a Publix in another neighborhood, the bagger said something just as crazy, although less crazy in my book. The bagger said something about a "vaginal probe" sonogram. I am serious.

I'm thinking that I want to stick very close to my own Publix ... from now on.