Judging Judy

There are days when I just do not want to be bothered. I met Judy at Costco on one of those days. I had a short list with a plan to get in and out in twenty minutes.

 I had just come from a workout and ran from aisle to aisle gathering up what I needed dressed in a dark hoodie and yoga pants. I was at the baked goods when I noticed a lady following me. At first, I told myself it was my imagination. When I went into the freezer, she waited outside.

Now if she had been a male, I probably would have asked an employee for help, but Judy did not look overly threatening, just weird. She wore mom jeans with an oversized sweater and was about fiftyish with that popular blond ‘Karen’ haircut that looked like a rooster in the back, and flat in the front. I knew if she attacked, I probably could take her.

I continued to look over my shoulder like a woman who was about to be attacked by a werewolf in a 1960’s late night classic. Then it hit me. I am a bestselling author. She must recognize me and want an autograph or selfie.

I was not selfie ready. After a fifty-minute workout I did not want any photo of me posted to social media. I had no choice but to out run her.

I whipped around the aisle on two wheels. She was on my tail. I considered throwing a large tub of laundry detergent in her way, but I could not lift it. When I got to the freezers she was gone. I was out of breath when she popped up in front of me. She took a short cut behind the freezers and cut me off.

I had to concede. She introduced herself and asked me to empty my pockets. Apparently Judy was a secret security guard who was told a lady in a black hoodie had stolen sunglasses from the display up front. I did as I was told because once I seen her up close, I took note of her broad shoulders and baseball glove size hands.  

I realized that I could not take Judy.

She took out a hidden radio, said ‘she’s clean’ apologized and walked away. I admit, I was a little let down that she did not ask for an autograph.