I promise to only use my powers for good

The grocery store was really busy.  I’d been sent there to fetch lettuce, cheese, tomatoes and something else I couldn’t remember for dinner.  Kelli had called as soon as I headed out and we were still talking while I did the shopping and got in the long line at the checkout.

I don’t even remember what Kelli and I were talking about when the woman siddled her shopping cart right up next to the old man in front of me.  She appeared to be somewhere in her late forties but she looked rode hard and put away wet.  Her eye makeup was a mess and her coral lipstick didn’t stay in the lines.  I kept my eye on her while she and the old man chatted each other up while I continued my conversation with Kelli.

When it became apparent she was going to try to take cuts, I sharpened my glance and narrowed my eyes a smidgen.  I apologize to Kelli now for admitting that I tuned her out for a second in time to hear the man say, “Go ahead and come on in line with me.”

My squint narrowed a bit more and I could feel the laser beams warming up behind my eyeballs. 

“Go ahead and cut in,” the clearly clueless man told her, “she won’t mind.”

The woman raised her head and looked in my direction, clearly hoping for a smile and a nod.  Apparently my phasers were not set to stun because she took an involuntary step back from me.  I didn’t answer, just upped the wattage a bit more.  I haven’t seen this look of mine from the outside, but from the inside it feels pretty scary.  My jaw is tight, my lips firm, gaze very intense.  My children aren’t afraid of it, but there have been plenty of ex-boyfriends, strangers, and loan officers that have quailed from the wrath that look promises.  My mother calls it the “Pirate look.”

“Come on,” the man with the death wish beckoned with his hand.  “She’s my ex-wife.”  He told me this like it was a constitutional amendment or public service they qualified under.

I passed my arm in front of me in a sweeping gesture of invitation and said, my voice absolutely dripping with irony, “Oh, by all means.”

“No,” the woman said as she continued backing up, “I don’t think so.  She’s looking at me like a cop.”

A laugh erupted in a giant “HA!”  I was looking at her like a cop?  I totally consider that a compliment – however, I’m going to pick my cop.  I’d like it to be Dirty Harry Callahan as opposed to say Barney Miller.  I’d like to think I’m more the bad cop than the good cop when I’m wearing that expression.

“I’m not a cop,” I explained, “although I’m flattered.  I’m just practicing my Mom Look on you.”

“Jesus!” she said under her breath.

Ultimately, I did let her in if only because I wasn’t done with my conversation with Kelli.  But things did not continue to go well for this woman.  She wasn’t even finished with her shopping when she cut in line. She sent the bag boy running for a gallon of milk and then started to protest the price of dog bones.

“Are you shitting me?” I said, plenty loud enough for her to hear, incredulity coloring my voice. 

The woman actually flinched.  “Never mind, I’ll pay for them anyway.”  She handed off her money and then scurried away.

The checker mentioned that the crazies were out tonight as he was ringing me up.  I raised my eyebrows in question and he asked if I’d been listening to Old Man and Trashy Woman’s conversation. 

“No,” I told him but I did fill him in on our earlier exchange and he laughed with glee and applauded.  I actually received a bow from the people behind me.

So I’ll add that to my super powers resume:

1. The ability to stay awake forever
2. The subsequent ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat
3. A glare that promises death and dismemberment