When John and I were driving home from the beach on Friday, we stopped in a Safeway that had a starbucks to get the token road trip lattes. I saw a 2-pound container of blueberries on sale for $5. Resisting the urge to drool and/or start eating them right there in the middle of the produce section, I made my way to the express line that was just opening up. Two older gentlemen (friends, it seemed) with carts got there first. The one with a portable oxygen tank wearing a nasal cannula looked at me, “That all you got?? Charles, let the woman go in front! That all she got!” I blushed, thanked him, and squeezed my way to the front of the line. The cashier rang me up and I pulled out my wallet to pay, but I was interrupted by the same fella, “Oh honey, that’s on us! You have a good weekend, mmmkay?” I was touched and surprised, I just hope I did something to show my appreciation before I awkwardly waddled back over to John. And they were the best flipping’ blueberries I’ve had all season!
Yesterday was one of those epic days spent almost entirely eating and walking, an excuse to really enjoy my city by showing it to wonderful friends (and New Yorkers and Bostonians are a tough sell!). I feel like pregnant women have a perpetual battle between staying hydrated and not peeing every 10 minutes. But yesterday was viciously hot, so I opted for the former. As we passed a nearly empty pub on 2nd street, I decided to go for it. When I sweetly asked the proprietor if I could use the facilities, he initially declined and said they were for customers only. But as I turned to leave, one of the patrons admonished him, “Roy, what the hell are you doing?” And I was stopped, “Oh, yeah. Of course, help yourself.” A moment later, while walking from the restroom to the door, I thanked him again and he replied, “Anytime. And sorry. I didn’t notice your…status…ya know, until you, like, turned sideways.” Me and my “status” consider it a compliment.
People are not going to be so nice when the kid is out the womb, right?
Tomorrow’s my first day of my Ob/Gyn rotation. I’ve been cautioned by friends to try not to freak out too much.