“Excuse me”, he said, “Have you found Jesus?”

I said, smiling, “I wasn’t aware he was missing. Did you check with customer service?”

He kind of furrowed his brow for a sec, then his face burst into this huge grin and he said, “You know, that’s the best ‘no’ I’ve heard all day. Hey, do you know what time the Eagles game starts?” He didn’t miss a beat.

“I’m not a sports fan, really” I said, as I started to inch down the aisle in that “yeah, great, it’s been real, best of luck to you” kind of way.

And he replies, “That’s what Sundays are made for!” and walked off.

I never did figure out why he had the newspaper open in front of him. I’m guessing it was the sports section, I just didn’t want to look.

About 7 minutes till opening, I decided to get out and stretch my legs while other shoppers started to congregate around the front doors.I sauntered up after them and milled around the front door with a brood of moms I would not want to mess with. Those women were there for a Wii and by god, they were going to get one. They all had their running shoes and game faces on.  I was actually a little concerned. I felt the need to let them know I had no interest in Wii and wish them luck lest they think me opposition and beat me down on my way to the cookie sheets.

There was another man standing near me who looked kind of like a cross between a weathered fisherman and Burgess Meredith in Rocky.  Standing about 5 feet away and without us making any eye contact whatsoever, he suddenly turns to me and says, “I like your coat. I used to have a coat just like that.”

“Thank you,” I said and smiled.  Wrong answer.

I was wearing my men’s black pea coat I bought for my trip to England, my “Rock Paper Scissors Champion” t-shirt that has the big fist on it (fists are this week’s theme, I guess), jeans and Chucks. Nothing too spectacular.  But after saying thank you, Burgess Fisherman continued on.

“I wore a Navy pea coat.  When you sweat, you’ll get a rash,” gesturing under his arms and along his torso and crotch.  “My doctor recommended that I use diaper cream.”

I wanted to say that if he was in the Navy, that rash was probably not from his coat, but I held my tongue and just said something along the lines of, “Oh? Well, I’ll bear that in mind, thanks.”

He quieted for a moment and the manager came out to tell the Mom-erators that there were was no shipment of Wiis and they would have to come back later. That didn’t sit well with them, so while they feasted on the manager’s soul, Burgess Fisherman took the opportunity to suddenly change tack and tell me that he had a stamp at home with Arctic wolves on it and a giant submarine underneath.  He proceeded to go into great detail about the wolves and how their expressions looked and how the submarine was sleek and how it made him feel powerful to have this stamp, which using his hands he indicated was only about 1×2 and only worth 10 cents.  I’m not sure what made him bring that up, but then he fell silent.

After the moms had their fill, the manager started letting employees into the store, but not customers, so I was stuck with my new friend a few moments longer.  After more moments of silence, he again burst out with a new topic, this time, “OH! The ceilings in Madrid, Spain are just glorious. And Italy and all the WORLD. Have you been to Spain?”

“No, I haven’t, but I intend to someday,” I said.

“Oh, it’s the most beautiful place on earth and the ceilings… the ceilings… the ceilings…” and he gestured in the air as though he were seeing them for the first time, his face contorting in awe. Despite saying odd things, he’d been acting relatively normal until this point, so I wondered if he was going to start smelling toast and have a stroke the way his eyes glazed over while he imagined Spain. But just as quickly as Madrid arrived into our conversation, it left.

“I like your fist, “ he said, referring to my t-shirt. “What’s your M.O.? I’ve partnered with law enforcement and that shirt says you know something. Tell me about that fist. What power do you fight?”

“I bought this shirt here. It’s just a novelty shirt,” I said, trying to smile, but really starting to wish the half-eaten manager would open the damn door.

“I like the diaper cream here the best. It’s only $1.79. I can rub it all over…,” then he gestures all over, “and still have it last a long time. It really works on that rash. I work at a hospital and I am a hypochondriac, so when I need something, I tell the doctors that my skin rash is going to infect my heart and I’ll drop dead if they don’t see me immediately. It works every time.  Do you want me to get you some?”

Just then the doors opened and smiling at Burgess Fisherman, I took the opportunity to high-tail it through the Mom Mob and as far as away from Health & Beauty as physically possible.  Other than the Madrid moment, he sounded like a normal guy, just all of his topics were totally out of the blue. He didn’t seem threatening to me really, just probably a lonely old guy.

But I’ll pass on the diaper cream.  Thanks, though.