Grown men and hand puppets do not mix.

Ok, so I've been dating this guy G since January. He seems like an ok guy, pretty interesting at times, holds open doors, likes music even more than I do. We have a nice time together on the weekends when we can see each other. But today, something changed. We spent the day digging for treasures at the local Goodwills, checking out the local places I've been hearing about for a year, and just kind of hanging out together. He decides we should go walk around a mall (cuz you know me, I'm an avid mall walker...or not) and so we do. A few stores and laps later, I'm bored and ready to leave, but decide I want to take a quick peek at Crate and Barrel. So, in we go, and I'm instantly enamored by all of the cool, fun gadgets they have. I'm strolling along, doing my own thing, when I hear him say "Hey, check this out!" I turn towards him, expecting him to be holding some great serving dish that will be perfect for the business I just finished telling him about. To my surprise, he was holding two oven mitts. To my horror, he started to put on a puppet show and talk really really loud. I am dying of embarrassment at this point, feeling all eyes in the store piercing my back like laser beams. As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, some snotty, preppy, middle class yuppy blurts out "Excuse me, I'd like to see the dish towels while you do your puppet show somewhere else." It's official, I can never show my face in this store again. I flashed the "you-better-put-those-things-away-right-this-second" look and quickly scurried to another section while Mr. Julia Childs was neatly hanging up his puppet friends. Needless to say, that was about an hour ago and I am now comfortably resting at home...very much alone. Probably the way it should be, for honest to blog, grown men and hand puppets just don't mix.