“No blog-material,” he says to himself

—“You look like a store employee,” I said to the pretty young girl rearranging stuff on a shelf.
“I am!” she said, as she turned toward me.
Overweight, but “WOW!” I thought to myself. “How am I supposed to ask you a question, when your eyes are so gorgeous?”
I didn’t say that of course, but I was speechless = stunned!
HEM-HAW; “I haven't shopped this store in years, so I don’t know where the coffee is.”
“Well we want you back,” she said.
“I shop the Weggers in Canandaigua,” I said. “I live in West Bloomfield.”
We were in the Pittsford-Plaza Wegmans; what I call “the-jewel-in-the-crown.” A supermarket so big you need a powered cart to shop it. And they have a valet service out in its vast parking lot. There even is a two-story segment.
Wegmans has many supermarkets in the Rochester area, but Pittsford-Plaza is the the-jewel-in-the-crown.
The girl was overweight but had gorgeous eyes. They were such a distraction I quickly forgot where she told me the coffee was.
What I didn’t do was tell her she had gorgeous eyes. And I shoulda.
“You’re probably married,” I woulda said. “Which means your husband sees those eyes a lot. I may never see ‘em again in my entire life!”
She was smiling at me! I’m always a sucker for that.
She wasn’t pushing me off.
Last weekend in the Canandaigua Weggers I told a complete stranger she had gorgeous eyes — and they were gorgeous.
And she was a shopper, not a store employee.
She was “touched;” “you are so sweet,” she said. I really hit the mark with her, and I almost didn’t say anything.
“Every day something!” I say.
There are seven days in a week, and five-or-six of those days I’m likely to have some fabulous female encounter.
This coming Saturday I hafta shop the Canandaigua Weggers to buy groceries for the coming week.
What’s it gonna be this weekend?
Every fabulous female encounter is blog-material = something worth blogging.
I got things to do: banking, checks to write, accounts to reconcile, tax records to update, and making sense of the gigantic pile of papers next to this computer.
That means no contact with pretty ladies at the supermarket.
Which was what I was gonna do last week, except there was that lady with her gorgeous eyes.