Strawberry Shortcake

It's an innocent enough title, isn't it? You won't think so once you finish reading this blog.

First, my apologies for my lapse in writing. It's been kind of hectic since James left for the baseball tournament and spring training in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. He is having a BLAST, by the way.

Jamie just asked me why I was smiling. I told him I'm writing my blog. I love communicating through my blog. It truly does make me happy. 

Back to Strawberry Shortcake. My sister and my nephew came to visit this weekend. Stephen and Joe were happily engaged in PS3 battle so Bridget and I went off shopping to the Arches. I had things to return and it was an opportunity to spend some time with her. 

We shopped at our leisure and I wanted to stop into American Eagle to check out a few things for James. I was browsing around and there were four AE associates hanging out on a table, talking in their outside voices. One young lady, and I use that term LOOSELY, was talking about how her yoga instructor told her her hips were very open. Let me throw in a footnote that the average age of these young people was 17, 18 years old. The next comment came from the wild haired blowsy young woman who asked if anyone had heard of the sexual position the Strawberry Shortcake. 

My "holy inappropriateness" radar is now starting to get into full gear. The young Asian fellow asked if anyone had heard of the sexual position the London Bridge. DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER.

The comment from the third stooge was, "that's when she takes in the a** and...."

You know the sound that the needle makes when it screeches across the vinyl record? I can't write that sound but that's what I heard in my brain.

I had to say something. Words just came out of my mouth. This happened to me on a conference call where a colleague made a comparison to an engineering sprint cycle to a woman's menstrual period. Same sound, same reaction. 

Stop. Just stop. This conversation is TOTALLY inappropriate. The Asian dude says, "What did we say?" "Dude," I respond, "let's not play this game. You're representing a corporation and this is the conversation you feel is appropriate on a sales floor? Stop it now."

I was ripping. I headed to the register to pay for a few t-shirts and one of the culprits had to wait on me. I was short, clipped tones, just wanting to get the hell out of there. I finished my purchase and at the last minute asked a salesperson to find me the manager. She came over. 

I filled her in on the details. I told her how inappropriate I thought a conversation about sexual positions was on the sales floor. It certainly wasn't a conversation I'd like my fourteen old son to overhear. Her eyes widened greatly. She looked like she was all of about 20 years old. She said she'd talk to them. 

One last stop in Old Navy and a long wait on line, I started chatting with the woman on line in front of me. I told her my American Eagle story. She said she was a high school teacher and nothing shocked her anymore. She said she had seen parts of the female human body in the halls of her high school that she had never even looked at on her own body with a mirror! She mentioned that there were a half dozen pregnant students in her school and one was in her class, and was one week ahead of her in her pregnancy. 

Finally, she said the funny thing is, these kids don't know what they're talking about. 

I will tell you that I had heard of the London Bridge but not of the Strawberry Shortcake. And the high school teacher was right. They didn't know what they were talking about. 

In this case, Just Google It.