That's the most logical title I could muster.
Minding my own business, buying stuff in Sam's Club is not usually the setting for TheLowLane worthy weirdness, but here we are.
I had just loaded up my cart with bottled water and other exciting items and was heading for another aisle towards the rear of the store when I heard a very pronounced BobWhite whistle like the one below...
My ears perked and I wished for a moment that I had brought along a shotgun, then I remembered that I was standing in a grocery store.
I heard it again a few more times, every 10 seconds or so, it became louder as I approached the juice aisle. In the juice aisle stood a woman, her back to me. She turned with her cart to go past me, and as she made eye contact with me, pursed her lips and whistled "BobWhite". She never said a word or looked surprised to see a person, just walked right by, still whistling.
I got the juice and walked from the aisle. She was heading in another direction now and still making her call. Odd. I headed towards the fruit section, content that a strange whistling lady had given me something to write about.
About 5 rows down from where I had encountered the quail lady I began to hear a cat call whistle like this one...
It was definitely a man whistling this time, but again, the source was nowhere to be seen.
I kept walking, the sound got louder, and eventually I found a man sitting in an aisle alone on an electric wheelchair whistling.
He was just sitting there. Whistling.
He looked at me. I looked at him. He whistled. I visually searched the whole area for another human, hoping his cat call was intended for someone else.
No luck, it was just me and him. I got what I was there for and turned to leave. He whistled. I glanced incredulously in his direction. He whistled.
In the distance I began to hear quail lady. This perked the attention of my would be suitor and he began rolling towards the aisle, whistling more frequently.
As he whistled more, so did quail lady. He turned into the main aisle, still whistling, very excitedly now that he had homed in on who I'm sure he calls "His little bird" when they are alone.
Like this!
It was adorable. Clearly these people were expert communicators. They had obtained something the rest of us can only dream of until we too have put in the countless decades of work required become so adept at understanding our significant other that speech is no longer speech, but rather takes on new and creative forms that only we two can understand, transcending beyond the understanding of those passers by who stand in aisles at grocery stores and look at us like we're the weird ones.
Why don't we have our own creepy bird language yet? My wife and I still have to use words to communicate. I was, for a moment, jealous, feeling the weight of failure in my role of a husband of 13 years...
That is, until they started shouting at each other in Spanish until she smacked him on the back of the head with a bundle of toilet paper.
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