I'll do my shopping at night from now on

I went to the grocery store this morning to pick up some noms for lunch. As I was pulling in the less-frequently used side driveway to the shopping center, I saw several drop cloths laying in the empty parking spaces. I thought it was odd because the shopping center is fairly new and certainly not in need of painting. Also, there were no work vehicles anywhere in sight.

As I drove toward the other end of the lot, I saw a beat-up green Taurus slowly cruising along. Every few feet, the car would stop and the driver would hurl out another drop cloth. Weird. What kind of painting company sends a private vehicle out early in the morning just to throw drop cloths into the parking lot? Wouldn't it be better if the driver got out and arranged the cloths so they were actually covering the ground near where the painting would be taking place?

The driver of the Taurus turned suddenly, gunned the engine, and raced down the aisle (nearly clipping my car in the process). I could see the driver was a young woman with a look of steely determination in her eyes. She screeched to a halt as a man jumped out in front of her car.

The man slammed his hands down on the hood and they exchanged heated words. He walked to the driver side window and she threw a pair of shoes at him. He swore at her, she swore back and threw another pair of shoes at him. She raced off, leaving the man in a trail of black exhaust, his arms extended wide in a "What the..." posture.

With an air of resignation, he slowly bent down and picked up the shoes and a drop cloth. I realized then that what I had thought were drop cloths were actually denim jeans. His jeans.

Ahhh... so baby did a bad bad thing and got caught. I guess kicking him out wasn't enough. She had to spread his clothes all over the Safeway parking lot. When I left the store and headed to work, I could see she had not limited herself to the parking lot. There were clothes strewn for a least a mile down the nearest main drag.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I wasn't laughing at their domestic difficulties, though. I was laughing at the fact that this man, who maybe had a 26-inch waist, owned at least 12 pairs of jeans large enough to be mistaken for drop cloths.

Haha, haha.