A odd visit to the hardware store

At the local chain hardware store yesterday, a young girl ahead of me had a puppy on a leash. The puppy (it was a beautiful brindled pit/terrier mix — just enough of each) and I  had a lengthy conversation about Life, The Universe, and Everything, while the girl was checking out. What I remember about the girl was that she was probably 20 something, wore her shorts too short, had pink and brown leather cowboy boots (pretty dreadful), had brown hair (I think it was short), and was friendly. What I remember about the puppy was her name (Athena), that she really goes by the name of “Gorgeous,” that she had beautiful markings — the brindled back, four fuzzy white feet, white chest, some white on her very animated face, and she was a friendly little soul who had found a human who would take her out and socialize her. Athena (AKA Gorgeous) was curious about everything and everybody, and had a tail wag even for strangers who didn’t appreciate her. When she left the store on her pink leash I thought I would like a puppy like her and was glad she had someone who took her places.

Next in line, I put my stuff on the counter. The lady who waited on me had done so before, and she is always friendly. About my age. But I was taken aback when she asked me, “Were you really interested in the puppy or were you checking out the ‘chick’?” (her word, not mine). I thought — really? Do I look like a dirty old man? (I wasn’t wearing black socks with sandals, or had pasty-white knobby-kneed spindly legs with old age spots all over them, or had hair growing out of my ears or nose, or a comb-over, or was wearing a Mexican Wedding Shirt, or Bermuda shorts — so I didn’t think I fit my image of the stereotypical dirty old fart). I assured her that I was indeed interested in the puppy, not the girl with the bad taste in boots. She didn’t believe me and said she was a cougar and that old guys were dirty old men. I went on to say that, given a room full of 20something girls and a room full of puppies, I would always gravitate to the puppies. I had my share of 20somethings when I was 20something, and honestly, I prefer puppies. She mentioned again that she was a cougar. I have no idea why. It was the oddest conversation I have had with a stranger in a long time.I wasn’t on drugs and she didn’t appear to be either.

As I drove home, I wondered what I had done to give her the impression that I was interested in this kid who was young enough to be a grand kid. I fawned over the puppy. I talked to the puppy. I communed with THE PUPPY. (BTW, after looking at those boots, I didn’t even bother looking at anything else about the girl, having made the quick judgment that while she had excellent taste in puppies she had no fashion sense whatsoever.)

Then I began to wonder what was wrong with me that I hadn’t really noticed the girl, but knew all about the puppy. Do I need Syntheroid or MyoRipped, or Alpha T-1?  (Yes, there really are products with these names. I doubt that any of them work.) I decided that. no, my testosterone levels are just fine, thank you. What I was really interested in was the puppy.

I think Athena will have a good life. Given her mother’s taste in boots, it should be an interesting one.

Yup — a room full of 20somethings and a room full of puppies? Give me the puppies any day.