If you're local, then you know this scene during Tourist Season . . .
You're in the grocery store. There is a person. Often older. DEFINITELY a tourist. They are standing in such a way that they are blocking the aisle and are completely unaware that you are trying to pass them. There is just enough room for you to squeeze by, but you know that the second you try this, they are going to start walking and bump into you.
So there I was, staring at this tourist doing just this. Staring at him. Hating on him.
I mean really, is there ANY occasion where it is okay to wear an oxford shirt and a sport coat, with shorts? Does that make any frickin' sense whatsoever? How is it that when people go on vacation, they have no clue how to dress?
I was staring. I was hating. I was sure that if I looked down, he'd be wearing black socks.
Actually, I was wrong. He wasn't wearing black socks. He was wearing black sneakers, with white tube socks. Ugh.
What do the socks have written on them?
He moved and I pushed my carriage past him. I got about halfway down the aisle before I just couldn't let it go. I turned around.
"Excuse me. Sir? Do your socks say 'I (Heart) She & Him'?"
He looked at me blankly for a second, woken from his trance of looking at flavored coffee. Then he gave me a warm smile. "Yes. I love that band."
"My wife and I saw them years ago, in a little club, before they got big. Have you seen them?"
I did talk about how much I liked them, though I didn't drop my M Ward story.
"Socks, huh," I said. "Usually people get a t-shirt."
"You can get anything these days," he smiled.
Truer words were never spoken during Tourist Season.
"Have a great day," I said to him, and sped off with my carriage, wondering what grocery store weirdness my next collision might bring.
Hear the song on Youtube.