I was meeting a friend at the store. Instantly upon entering Goodwill a very rotund antique man whose body (and head) resembled enlarged grapes sparkled a smile at me. My immediate reaction, and I hope I'm not alone in this, was to smile back. His toupee roosting on his otherwise bald head jiggled with joviality, his beaver eyebrows jigged, and his grape-belly bounced. His chubby pallid paws motioned from his lips to me. I elevated my own eyebrows, rotated, and treaded in the opposite direction. I text messaged my friend: "Get your ass over here. Crazy round man just propelled air kisses in my direction." She wrote back, "I'm looking for parking. Stop exaggerating." I fled to the opposite side of the store and was browsing through a hideous collection of neon shirts and sweat-suits when another man, this one with white hair jungles breeding from his ears, eyebrows, nose, chin, and all other sustainable surfaces approached me, announcing I looked like Brooke Shields. But better. I appraised myself and adjudicated between my puke-green army jacket, ill-fitting jeans, and oversized black tee-shirt, these maniacal old men were delusional. I texted my friend again, "Seriously. Get here now. Please. Another crazy just told me I look like Brooke Shields." Her response, "Shut the fuck up. You're exaggerating. I'll be there in a second."
She sauntered through the door minutes later to witness my flaming face and Toupee-Grape-Man kissing my hand and grasping it before releasing his vice.
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