In the grocery store, everything I want is on the top shelf. Every single thing. I’m 5’2″. It’s annoying. I usually manage, or I find a tall person to help me.
So one Saturday a month or so ago, I was struggling to reach a box of Triscuits. I love Triscuits. I could touch the box, but it slipped away as I touched it. Out of my reach.
“Damn!” I thought, when a voice came from behind me.
“You need a tall person to help you there, missy.”
“Missy?” I thought. Nobody’s called me that since I was about 12.
So I turned, and saw Mark standing there, smirking at me. From an enormous height.
Immediately, within a second, I gave him a hug. In a second-and-a-half, I realized how inappropriate that was. Oops.
You see, Mark was a client. A tall client, but still a client. One isn’t supposed to hug clients. Even if he DID get me that box off the shelf.
I gave myself a pass, though. I’m a hugger. I don’t think about it. When I see someone I know, I hug. Besides, I figured it didn’t really matter since I am currently unemployed, having been laid off last year. Mark is no longer a client. And I don’t know the etiquette for hugging former clients. I did work with him for 15 years; maybe after 10 years, hugging becomes acceptable.
When the news broke about Vice President Joe Biden affectionately — but not sexually — touching Lucy Flores and Amy Lappos, I immediately thought of Mark. And my hug. Would it keep me from running for higher office. Errrr, for ANY office?
Had he hugged me, though, might it have squelched his plan to run for office as a Democrat?
Democrats are currently eating their own. I still haven’t gotten over the railroading of Al Franken. And now, folks are going after Uncle Joe – not even for sexual touching but for space invading. While the Pussy Grabber sits in the Oval Office.
Lord, I need a Triscuit. And I’ll take a hug from Joe Biden too.