Love in the Laundry Aisle

I so didn't intend for this to be so long. The story isn't even worth the how much time I spent on it! I just got carried away! Kind of sad that I finally had time to blog about something and this is what I chose.

On more than one occasion I have read articles or heard “experts” on finding love speak of meeting that special someone when you least expect it or in the most mundane of places. Quite often there will be mention of shopping for love while shopping for food. That’s right. The good ole “meet and greet” at the grocery store. Some have gone so far as to recommend the best times of singles to stroll the aisles and even the types of items that will send that right message to that potential mate. Who knew the supermarket pick-up has such a science to it?!?

For as ridiculous as I find all of this, I will admit that it has planted little seed that will often begin to sprout branches as I walk into my local grocery store. The thought usually occurs to me as I’m entering through those fabulously reflective glass doors that one must approach in order to embark on the shopping experience. Only because it is at that point that I realize I’m donning an old pair of ill-fitted jeans, a t-shirt I would rarely wear around people I have to actually talk to, and with only minimal make-up. Needless to say all this gives me a less than appealing appearance. And I didn’t even mention that my hair is usually pulled back in less than flattering ponytail Yep, for me, grocery shopping is truly an event that I put little thought into in terms of it being a social experience. It is only in those fleeting moments when I see that very undesirable reflection staring back at me that I wonder what I was thinking even leaving the house looking like that. I mean, could today be the day that instead of attracting the one I long to spend the rest of my life with be the day that I repel him with the gigantic and all too gaudy purple and orange font that is screaming, “PURPLE ACES!” proudly and loudly from my across my chest? Luckily, as soon as those doors automatically part allowing my entrance and thus causing my reflection to disappear I no longer care and get to the main event.

Today, however, was a bit different. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was still dressed as in the aforementioned paragraph, still felt slightly ashamed of my reflection, and still had to prune those branches back before they began to sprout fruits of hope that Mr. Right might already be perusing the aisles that I was about to stroll down. No, the difference today was that I had an encounter that would make those Dear Abby wannabes proud of the work they do in trying to eradicate singleness in America.

I was about half of the way through my list, checking off each new item that found its way into my cart when I passed the laundry detergent aisle. That is when I remembered my evening of laundry that lay ahead of me. Just to be on the safe side I decided to get a new bottle of Downey. I mean, there is just no way I could take the chance of running out and not being able to complete my task in the absence of the most heavenly smell of all time. So, as I approached the shelves that have the privilege of displaying those beautiful blue bottles of April freshness, I noticed they were being blocked by a rather perplexed looking man who was methodically taking each bottle from the shelf, taking the lids off, smelling them, placing the lid back on, and then returning it to the shelf. It was obvious that he was trying to choose the best one but was not satisfied with any of them. As I approached he looked my way, kind of smiled, and then went back to his aforementioned activity. At that point I had to pardon myself as I stepped in front of him to get what I firmly believe is the most blessed of all things one can purchase in a bottle. Somehow this began a semi-lengthy discussion about the perfect fabric softener scent. I, of course, firmly believe that original scent Downey will win this competition every time. Hands down! No contest! Yet, it seems his favorite variety of Downey was missing in action and he had no idea what kind it was. I tried to guide and lead him in his quest but was rather distracted by my own thoughts. You see, at some point in our interaction I couldn’t help but think back to those articles I’d read. I mean, could one really find love in the laundry aisle?

On this particular day I was not going to find out because I got so distracted by my thoughts that I all too quickly headed off to the produce section. It wasn’t that I wasn't enjoying his company. I mean, he was rather attractive, carried on a light-hearted banter with ease, and obviously has incredible taste in fabric softeners. Yet, not having any clue about how he feels about Jesus meant I didn’t even want to take it any further.

With all that said, I’m not at all sad or disappointed in how it turned out. I actually just loved the fact that I could even have such an encounter while looking so dreadful! But I couldn’t help but think to myself how I might have known if he was down with the big J.C. I mean, would it have been too much to ask for him to have said, “Yeah, I love Downey. Almost as much as I love my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!” Or, perhaps, “Yeah, God sure knew what He was doing when He led those chemists to the formula for Downey.” Ah, or maybe just a, “I give praise to my Heavenly Father every time I pull a freshly washed shirt on and am embraced by the scent. God sure is good!”

Yes, I laugh even now as I think about how great a story that would have been to tell the grandkids someday. Alas, there will be no grandkids with the Downey dude. Still, it gave me new respect for those articles I’ve read and scoffed at so many times. And, I do believe, it just might have an impact on when, where, and what I wear when I go grocery shopping next time.

Oh, the single life! Gotta love it!