"Swangs-&-Thangs"
- Brittany Furlow
- Jun 23, 2023
- 15 min read
Updated: Jun 24, 2023
"I was looking out for you shorty" - The universe.
Warning:
You will read the word "impossible" at least 100 times in the next paragraph.
Now, for those of you who have removed this word from your vocabulary, similar to Quincy from the classic film "Love & Basketball" with the removal of the word "can't" that was forced upon him by his cheating ass daddy, I strongly advise you my dear reader to skip the next paragraph if this too is the case for you, (minus your cheating ass daddy-that's your business).
I am not and will not be held responsible if this word triggers you, nor will I be held accountable for your beef with the universe and the fumbling of your manifestations if you decide to move forward within your reading.
In conclusion, I will not take your skipping of my introduction personal if you indeed decide to do so, (with your skipping asses), but do know that it is vital to the story, and if you find yourself confused throughout, well that my friend is on you.
But please, protect your peace queen...and kings, (you know I can't forget about my bruddanems).
How many of you believe in the impossible actually becoming possible?
Whether it be an impossible mission... an impossible dream... an impossible, yet strongly manifested relationship... or my personal favorite, the "what are the chances" and "highly unlikely", impossible situation.
For instance, that "impossible" mission that Tom Cruise is always on. They called it "impossible", but somehow that little white man who isn't Brad Pitt always finds a way to make the "impossible" mission, possible.
Or what about the "impossible" dream or "impossible", yet strongly manifested relationship?
in my opinion, these two are almost synonymous.
See, I believe with a clear vision, hard work and dedication, the right amount of ambition, and a side of consistency, and both of these things can easily be obtained.
So, for those of you whose "impossible" dream it is to star as Nala in the hit Broadway production of "The Lion King", belting out the lyrics to "Can you feel the love tonight" alongside your sexy Simba, or for those of you who prioritize the "impossible", yet strongly manifested relationship that is of you standing side by side with Michael B. Jordan at the next Creed premiere, (because ya'll know they'll be making another one, right? That franchise will be longer than the damn Harry Potter series), then again, a clear vision, hard work and dedication, the right amount of ambition, and a side of consistency, I guarantee either one of these can be brought into fruition. And who knows, depending on how strong your manifesting game is and if your connection is really connected, you might even meet Michael B. Jordan at said Broadway production! And if you pray, (and I mean seriously pray to that universe), he just might turn out to be your sexy Simba.
But with all this talk of the universe and manifesting and seeing firsthand just how the "impossible" can actually become possible, you would think that I would have been a little less shocked when I became one of the few chosen to not only witness, but be the very reason that a "what are the chances" and "highly unlikely" "impossible" situation took place.
Dear universe,
This is not what I wanted to manifest!
Thursday, 1:40 pm, Whole Foods Market
The mission: Collect fruit... amongst other thangs.
Grocery List:
1. apples
2. bananas
3. oranges
4. strawberries
5. blueberries
6. orange juice
7. two lemons
8. one lime
9. a pack of blueberry muffins
10. wheat bread
11. oat milk, (because, like, what even is dairy?)
12. & mangoes... so. many. mangoes.
The mission was simple. Get what was needed but move in stealth. In and out. Nothing more, nothing less. (I wasn't quite sure why I was treating this grocery store run like a diamond heist, but I've always been a 'grab my shit and go' kind of girl), nevertheless, there was no time to waste, and I knew that if I stuck to the items on my list, I would be wrapping this errand up in approximately fifteen to twenty minutes, (but how was that line looking?).
Basket in hand, grocery list at the ready, and my eyes straight ahead focusing in on the section of the store that held most of the contents I needed. Everything was going according to plan. One by one the items on my list were being checked off and I was just a few minutes short of the fifteen-minute mark. Things were running smoothly, (like shea butter on brown skin). After grabbing the orange juice and with only oat milk remaining, I scurried across the perimeter of the store, sprinting further down the dairy section like a track star coming up on the finish line, and that's when I saw him.
He stood there, alone, scanning the Simply Lemonade flavored juices that just so happened to sit directly next to the oat milk, and plastered across his face was an expression that read, "which one should I get?".
He seemed a bit overwhelmed and by the amount of time he spent standing in front of that transparent door that separated him from those pulp-filled drinks, (along with blocking my Planet Oat selection), I gathered he was naturally indecisive and I decided to give him a few short moments to think before interrupting his process, (see, I completely understand just how tough picking out a juice flavor can be. You want a flavor that's versatile; not basic-a flavor that challenges your palette, perhaps something sweet, but not too sweet, you don't want a damn migraine every time you go to take a sip. So yes, this is serious business), besides, I was still making record timing, (but again, how's that line looking?).
Patiently waiting and watching as his eyes shifted between what seemed to be the Raspberry Lemonade and the Grapefruit, I just knew at any moment he would make a decision. With his left hand on his chin and right hand extended, he had finally grabbed the handle of the transparent door and I, slowly moving forward with the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before he would grab his choice and stride off so that I may retrieve my item, had my own stride quickly halted when the brotha let go of the handle and resumed his position.
I had been bamboozled! Hoodwinked! Completely led astray! This man had tricked me into thinking that he had finally made a decision, (FYI readers, he did NOT!), but I could be patient no more! I was now officially at the fifteen-minute mark and the lines were growing longer with each second that I stood here. I could no longer accommodate this man's indecisiveness.
Still standing behind him on his left side, I slowly inched up with my basket in hand preparing to excuse myself while I reach for the last item on my list, however, just as I leaned forward, grabbing the handle of the transparent door, the brotha who was slightly startled, jolted back and watched as I nervously continued to reach for my Planet Oat. As I turned towards him, simultaneously placing my milk into the basket, I had finally looked up and made direct eye contact with a man who was just as fine from the front as I assumed he was from the back, (I know a sexy brotha when I sense one. Just call me Spider-Man).
This brotha was a straight ten out of ten and smelled absolutely divine, like a cool ocean breeze that floated across a non-polluted tropical island. Like I mentioned before, he gave off the possibility of fine when I stood behind him, creepily to his left, but now we were face to face, and the fineness had been confirmed. I had to say something right? (Probably start off with: "what the hell is taking you so long?! It's just juice.").
After shoving my oat milk in the basket, finally finding something that stopped my apples and oranges from annoyingly rolling around, I continued to stand to this brothas left now pretending to need a Simply Lemonade juice myself, (I am completely deviating from my original plan, but maybe if I grab my favorite flavor it would somehow encourage this man to make the same selection), but I needed to spark up a conversation in the process if I had any real chance of shooting my shot and I couldn't necessarily do that if I just grabbed my flavor and left, (see, I told ya'll I just 'grab my shit and go'). But with this sudden new turn of events and an unforeseen new mission in the works, I continued to stand in my spot, quietly and quickly pondering on the logical next step.
I played several possible scenarios over in my head of how I would start up this conversation, but for whichever one I was to settle on I needed to act fast. I was already a minute over my first set time.
Possible Conversation Starters:
1. Suggest a flavor.
The brotha was seriously conflicted. Maybe I could suggest my favorite one with the hopes that, that will lead to a series of questions followed by a series of answers, and not only would I have helped him finally make a decision, but I would have provided him with a little fun fact about myself as well.
2. Let the decision be his own.
I could try something a bit more subtle like asking, "so, you still can't decide?".
Now this approach could go several ways, but because I needed to spark up a conversation, I would hope that this question would cause him to speak up about his dilemma. His response, if I'm lucky, could be something along the lines of, 'No, I'm still stuck, but it's between these two", as he points to the two possible choices, which may lead to some much-needed guidance before settling on a flavor, (there were numerous amounts of options. anyone would be overwhelmed). But there was also the possibility that by asking this question the brotha may become fully aware of just how long he had been standing in the same spot which may inadvertently force him into a panicked decision, (will the outcome inspire a conversation, or will it offend this man causing him to choose the wrong damn drink?).
The World will never know...
...And why is that you ask? It is because just as I had finally mustered up the courage to grace this brotha with conversation starter number two, he, for the second time leaned forward and with his right hand grabbed the handle of that transparent door, this time making his selection and placing it in his cart. I had once again been bamboozled! Hoodwinked! And completely led astray, but even more so I was highly disappointed, but not for the reasons you may think. Even though I had found myself, internally, in complete turmoil trying to not only decide which way my emotions were going based off of what I had just witnessed but also trying my best to find the balance in between. At first, I couldn’t tell if I was supposed to be happy for the brotha for finally making a decision or sad that I wouldn't get the chance to spit game. But as I had hinted previously, a new emotion, one of disappointment and annoyance had quickly taken over and made every other feeling that was once felt absolutely irrelevant.
He picked Grapefruit!
(The fuck?!)
Yes, I was indeed proud of this fine man for finally making a decision as to what he would use to quench his thirst, but if I’m being honest, the decision was a gotdamn terrible one. My mind ran rampart.
My Mind:
"So, you mean to tell me that this man stood there for damn near an hour just to decide on grapefruit?"... "This brotha, this FINE from the front and back brotha held me and two other shoppers up from completing our grocery list in a timely manner just so he could settle on the nastiest and least chosen of the Simply Lemonade brand?!"... "Who in the hell chooses grapefruit as their main source of hydration?!"... "I refuse to spit game to a man who CHOOSES grapefruit as their main source of hydration!"...
I sacrificed my time goal for this?!
I looked down at my phone and I was now two minutes away from the twenty-minute mark, (the final set time limit), and with that in mind, I still had to battle it out like a scene from "You Got Served" over in the checkout lines that were growing even longer than the last time they were growing even longer.
Coming to terms with my failed attempt at connecting with a fine brotha wearing sage green Nike sportswear all while sporting a killer fade, I swung my basket over to my opposite arm for comfort and jetted to the front ready to get the hell out of this store. Casing the five available lanes and comparing lengths and other shoppers by their items, I realized that my options were sadly limited and would produce the same waiting time regardless, so, I reluctantly chose lane four that held three other shoppers before me including a cute little old white man who had an alarming amount of White Claw in his possession- the variety pack.
Now some of you may be thinking, "Simone, why didn't you just go to the express lane?".
Good gotdamn question!
Well, for those of you wondering why that wasn't an option, the express lane required you to have 12 items or less but because I added an additional item to my basket, (that good for nothing, not on my list, waste of my damn time) Simply Lemonade juice, I had no choice but to toughen it out in this line and pray that the little old white man stocking up on white claw wouldn't hold me up with the usual questions that come from shoppers who rack up on the same item,
The Usual questions:
1. "Did you scan this twice?". "I think you scanned this one twice".
2. "How much was this one?". "This one is not the same amount as that one".
And my personal not favorite:
3. "I have a coupon for these". "This price shouldn't be that price. Did you scan all of my coupons?".
And whatever other questions usually follow with dilemmas like this, (but either way, I was already way past my twenty-minute mark...so fuck it! We here now!).
But to my surprise, the little old white man loaded his forty plus packs of White Claw onto the conveyor belt with such order that his turn went by flawlessly, using not a single usual question and finalizing his transaction with no problem, which is more than I can say for the woman who was ahead of us prior holding up the line so she could color coordinate her damn items in their respective bags. But now here I was, standing there next to my own items as they slid down the belt next to me. I was now on deck.
Wrapping up my transaction and heading towards the exit, I spotted 'sage green Nike sportswear' in the express line swiping his items and placing them into the legendary Whole Foods paper bag, including that God forsaken, nasty ass, Simple Lemonade Grapefruit drink, (so he's really buying it?). I frowned as I continued to walk pass his station because not only did this fine brotha confirm his gross purchase, but I just KNEW he had way more than twelve items in his cart, (so this man just makes poor decisions all around, I see).
I dropped my basket at the door and with my own 'brought from home' shopping bag, I swung my groceries over my left shoulder grabbing my car keys from my jacket pocket and proceeded to head out through the automatic doors. With my bag weighing heavy on my shoulder from the added weight of that cursed Simple Lemonade juice, I quickly scoped the parking lot in search of my vehicle... and that my dear readers is when it happened.
The universe and their damn jokes!
I had one job! One!
I spotted my vehicle. It was two rows over and about six or seven cars down to my right from where I was currently standing. I walked through the parking lot with a casual stroll that surprised me, especially seeing as how this heavy ass grocery bag was lacerating the left side of my damn clavicle, but with my car keys hanging from my right hand that were attached to a miniature wrist lanyard that I copped from Amazon, (the print was mudcloth, my favorite print by the way, and it was FIRE), and being completely spellbound by this casual stroll that was accompanied by an ambrosial breeze; bringing a certain 'serene' feeling to this leisure walk I was taking, I began, without notice, swinging my car keys by their attached wrist lanyard across the top of my index finger then changing directions with every successful catch.
Swinging... and swinging... and swinging some more.
With every step that I was taking was a matching swing. A slight flick of the wrist followed by the flight of my key fob, but unfortunately...
4 Seconds later...
Oh Shit!
"Where did they go?", I said to myself in complete panic. "Where the hell did they go?!".
Turning from my right to my left and then back to my right I was now in an absolute frenzy. Looking down onto to the ground of this smooth black parking lot searching in between yellow lines and underneath the three cars beside me including my own, I began to slowly lose my shit when I realized what I had just done.
I lost my damn keys!!
But not only did I swing my keys into the great unknown, I was also completely embarrassing myself in this parking lot with all the flailing of my arms followed by the ducking down beneath strangers' cars that I was doing, but I couldn't worry about my appearance right now, besides it would be even more of an embarrassment if I was just standing beside my car struggling to hold this King Kong sized tote bag with two gallon sized juices inside, (the straps themselves were barely hanging on). But I had an idea! One that might solve at least one of my problems.
Walking to the passenger's side of my car with the plan of unburdening myself from this shopping bag that was hindering my search and rescue team, (a team of one), I figured that if my key fob was close enough, I should be able to activate my car's keyless entry system and utilize the small button on my car's door handle to unlock it.
Success muthafuckas. Success!!
(Excuse my mouth but I'm a genius!)
It worked! I was in!
Unlocking all four doors from my passenger's side, I quickly launched my grocery bag to the backseat and prepared for round two of my search and rescue. My keys couldn't be far. Closing the door behind me and heading back to my starting point, I noticed something quite familiar wedged between the windshield wipers of the car beside me that was backed in the opposite way of my own.
"It can't be", I thought to myself, summoning back up the panic that once laid dormant in my body. "Please tell me it's not!". But without my glasses this investigation was useless. I needed to get closer.
Creeping up to the vehicle next to me while surreptitiously checking inside to see if someone was occupying the space, I slowly leaned forward and confirmed my worst nightmare, that this familiar object that was wedged in-between the windshield wipers of this wolf grey Hyundai Elantra Hybrid were indeed my keys, (lawwd, why me?).
The panic was worse now. It had taken over every inch of my body stronger than a damn poltergeist and I, for the life of me, could not believe that of all the places my keys could've landed in an open parking lot, that they decided to face plant themselves on a stranger's car.
Looking around the parking lot, it was completely packed. The same amount of people going in were the same amount coming out. The only thing that I could hope for was that no one would notice, or better yet, even care about what it was that I was doing.
They were right there. My keys were right there.
All I had to do was lean across the front of this person's car and grab them. Nothing to it. Grab my keys and go, (see, that 'grab my shit and go' logic works for any occasion). Taking a deep breath, I scoped out the parking lot one last time and with not a single change in foot traffic, I figured my only option was to try and move as fast as I could with the rescue portion of this "search and rescue". Inching up a bit more to the front of the car and a tad bit closer, another familiar object quickly came into view.
My left hand was slightly outstretched but not enough to raise suspicion, and I was lucky, because someone was now walking directly towards me.
My mind ran rampart for the second time that day.
My Mind:
"If I would've left during my fifteen to twenty-minute window, I would've gotten away with this!"... "I just needed one more damn item! One more. Why couldn't I just stick to the list?!"... "You think he'll see me? Maybe he won't see me. Shit, does he see me?!"...
What are the chances of this "impossible" and "highly unlikely" situation taking place?
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