An embarassing thing

Today at Wal-Mart, I was trying to reach the Granny Smith apples, but they were on the top flat of a table that was slanted away from me. I stood on my tiptoes straining for them, but they remained just beyond my reach. I glanced around for the produce guy or something to stand on, but no solution was presenting itself. So I just stood there for a minute trying to figure out what in the world I was going to do.

Luckily, a tallish woman dressed in red pushed her cart by me just at that time, and I turned to her and said, “You’re tall. Could you possibly reach the Granny Smith apples for me?” We laughed as she helped me pick out three or four apples, and I told her that any time she needed something from a bottom shelf, she could give me a call.

I have had to ask tall men for help before at the grocery store, when the Rice-a-Roni is all the way in the back on the top shelf or something. I usually ask men who are with their wives/girlfriends, so it’s clear I’m not hitting on them and that I just need some help. But I’ve never needed help in produce before. I have reached a new low. (Insert your own short joke here.)

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