I love the music at my Trader Joe’s. I don’t know if all Trader Joe’s play the same music, or if there is store autonomy, or if there is some regionally specific target population demographic ish going on. If it is the latter, then I, apparently, am their intended audience and they know me very well. So well, I might just get some action due to the fantastic audio ambiance of my TJ’s. No really, this could so totally happen.

A little backstory:

I’ve been going to this grocery store consistently for 2 years now, like once a week on average. I liked the music right off the bat. I remember debating about it with Tex when I first moved to Oakland, he claimed the Grocery Outlet on Broadway hands down had the lock on good tunes to shop to. And maybe he is right, but I’ve never had the urge to do the electric slide down the frozen food isle to an especially funky mix of the Jackson 5’s greatest hits while shopping at Gross Out. And yes I did have that urge at Trader Joe’s, and yes I did get the boys to do it with me, even Ethan, for a few steps.

So there’s this one guy who works there. He reminds me of a pirate. I know, I know, soooo cliché, but like, he’s got this whole smoldering disdain for authority thing going. Which, ok, still totally hot to me. He shaves his head, has a full thick bushy beard, bulky earrings, tat sleeves on his forearms, his skin is really dark so I’m not exactly sure what the art is, I just know it’s there. Plus, he’s really tall, broad chested, big shoulders… ya I noticed him right away. In the two years of shopping at TJ’s this guy has never paid any attention to me. In fact, watching his demeanor over time, he seems to pay as little attention to the customers as possible. Again- such a super attractive quality.

He never asks shoppers if they need help finding things, which I think is some regulation or requirement of TJ workers. If a customer comes within 2 feet of you, you’re supposed to offer assistance without being asked? Maybe? I dunno, I do know that I get asked that a lot and usually I’m kind of startled by it. Still. After 2 years, I still think, did I look bewildered or something? Anyway, this guy never does that. Never. Yes! So fucking hot in that damn-the-man-find-the-clearly-labeled-ample-stocked-food-on-the-shelf-for-yourself-I-know-you-can-read-anti-hegemonic kind of way.

Alright so my Trader Joe’s has great music and one smoking hot Sinbad of a man on crew.

Yesterday, it all coalesced into one perfect moment. I’m shopping with the boys. They are dashing here and there to grab items to put in the cart. At this point, they’re like Thing 1 & Thing 2 from the Cat In The Hat: each sprinting in different directions, come back drop something in the basket, then dash off again. So I just stay at cruising speed. And then ‘Tainted Love” comes on. I start to hum along as I stroll, kind of nod my head to the uber familiar beat. I can hear someone softly whistling with the tune. I’m meandering toward the snack aisle, need to load up on trail mix, I’m mouthing the words, the whistling is either getting louder or closer, not sure. By the time I’m mid aisle, I’m audibly singing along, and also in perfect time with the whistling, which I’m sure is both louder and closer. We’re in the same aisle, but I can’t see who they are because we are both navigating our way around a large stack of crates. The song is finally to the crescendo and the unseen whistler and I are totally having a very pronounced duet in the snack food aisle…

I’m further down now, so if I look behind me I can see my duet partner: it’s Sinbad guy! No way, I think. Really? Tainted Love huh? Wow. And he’s looking at me, like, looking-looking, and he smiles, big. And I smile back. Like, hello, yes I’ve been shopping here for 2 years, but it’s cool you just now noticed me. We both start to talk at the same time, he starts with, “It’s catchy…” Me: “Ya, kinda hard not to…” More smiles, more twinkly eyes. He moves up the aisle toward me, “Uh..” he’s still grinning. If he asked me if he could help me find anything, I would have lost so much respect for him. So, instead I give him my favorite Chesire cat grin, turn around and continue shopping. Always keep moving. I was so distracted I actually bought two bags of the same trail mix. What? The man can whistle.

So that was cute, I’m thinking to myself as we go through the line, and we get my favorite checker, Adam. Ethan’s favorite checker is a woman who is so cute and fun, he just melts in front of her. He doesn’t like Adam. Probably because Adam always takes the time to express deep sympathy for my parenting predicament. “Don’t know how you do it,” he always says in farewell. I’m trying to convince him to put a hidden recording device in his nametag so we can YouTube all the crazy shit he puts up with on his shifts. But am I attracted to Adam? Noooo of course not. But this slightly hostile, pirate looking motherfucker who can whistle? Totally.

Who, by the way, made sure to make a departing appearance: he flagged me down as I was driving out. Big waves and all smiley, I’m all smiley back, as I pull off. Always keep moving. I look in the rearview and the expressions on the boys’ faces? Priceless. Clinton has the single WTF eyebrow, Ethan has the double you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me/here-we-go-again eyebrow lift.