Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Guess what happened to me at Target, with my x real estate agent

So I was in line at Target, in my stretchy black yoga pants and my fleece pullover. Just finished working out for an hour at the Y. I worked that eclipse like it owed me money. GEEEERRAAAHWWWAHHH!!

And there I was, hair all plastered to my forehead and back of my neck, tank top all sticky to my torso, dazed look on my face and one box of pull ups on the conveyor belt. Then I hear,


I turn and see my x real estate agent. She's blonde, cute, busty and trim waist. She drives a silver BMW and was buying a pair of toddler sandals, size seven. Which means she has younger kids then my kids, thus no playgroup possibilities. This is going through my head as I say,

"Oh hey, Sally? How are you?"

"Good. Did [Mr. Hall] get those pool inspection reports I emailed him?"

In my head I am processing her outfit. It is stylish. She is always stylish with a cute flair to her ensembles. Girlfriend goes shopping at the expensive stores and does not haunt goodwill and consignment shops like me. I'm kind of staring at her, all out of it. I underestimated the amount of food I needed to eat in order work out like I did.

I'm starving and lightheaded.

"Oh yeah, he got the report."

"Did he call the pool guy yet?"

I start to understand what she is saying now. Our pool has a rip in the liner and we'll, most likely, have to have it replaced. But, Mr. Hall is an engineer and a thrifty type of guy, so needs to research the options first and then form a plan. Then he will call.

"Um, yeah, I think he is researching it at this point. You know him, he can't be rushed."

I think about the 1700000000000000000 houses we went through and how much time Mr. Hall took with each one. Each time scouring the places with a tiny flashlight, wheeling and dealing with the agents. Mr. Hall would make a great conman. He has that circular logic way of arguing. You just can't win when arguing with him.

Then I see something flip behind Sally's eyes. I see her go into type A mode.

"OH he should call them because the report said . . . . ."

It is at this point I drift off because I am so starving and dehydrated. I could EAT THE PULLUPS at this point. I need to get out of there. But, she's going on and on, her and her busty blondness. And I want to say, 'Bitch please . . . Mr. Hall can't be rushed. I've accepted this. In fact, being all crazy and nagging fucking slows the process down!!' But I don't. I just stare. Blinking. I start to listen to her again,

"Every time I show a house with a pool I think of you guys . . . I think, do they ave their pool fixed yet . . ."


Instead I say,

"That's a good idea to call the pool guy. I'll tell him to do it right away. You are so on top of things. Thank you for all your help, to this day I get all giddy when I put the key in the front door. Nice to see you again."

Then we smiled and I took off to the car.


I can say this. If you are going to work out all hard core and badass, have a plan.


Have a protein shake at the ready post work out. That way you can be sipping and replenishing while being accosted by your busty blonde, x real estate agent!

6 Left a message at the beep:

Cam said...

I think someone was fishing for a pool party invite...

Just sayin'.


'worked it like it owed me money'...ah...classic Hall. you crack me UP!

Mrs. Hall said...

jeez. she was all heated and kept saying, "did he call the pool guy yet??!!" and then it hit me, I could just parrot her to get out of there!!



Joanna Jenkins said...

High five on that workout Holly! People like Miss Busty Blonde drive me nuts-- especially when I'm hungry. You handled this well. I'd have scared her right our of Target.
Hope all's well and your summer is going good.

Mrs. Hall said...


no freaky blonde women all up in my grill!! :)

Slyde said...

i know a pretty good pool guy.

he usually shows up drunk, but does a stellar job. too bad you dont live closer.

Bruce said...

What you describe here is basically what most men go through when talking to their girlfriends / wives. .... drifting...

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