Dance to the Muszac

I have a knack for finding the interesting people wherever I go. I went to the grocery store and was standing at the deli, waiting my turn. The woman who was being helped had the cutest shoes on. I complimented her. I got the longest response that I have received in a long time. “Thank you so much! They are Danskins so they are supposed to last at least ten years. They are very comfortable and I keep getting them painted by the cobbler who says they show no signs of breaking down any time soon and they are 7 years old. I had no idea that they would look this good when they are this old.” Wow. I think that she hasn’t spoken to anyone in a while.

I had an uneventful trip around the store, filling up the cart. No one in my way. No one doing anything that annoyed me. Nothing. Phew.

I got to the point where I was trying to choose a checkout line. A man was trying to do the same thing. He was entertaining himself while he did the deciding. He was dancing the cha-cha to the music playing overhead. In normal times, I would have cut in and joined him, but it’s not easy to be lead from 6 feet away. I smiled at him, but he couldn’t tell because of my mask, I am sure. He suggested that I take lane 6, and he’d take lane 4. Worked for me!

I miss dancing with random people in the grocery store. Or Starbucks. Or the mall.