According to the Urban Dictionary a himbo is a "male bimbo" An example of the term usage is, "He is such a himbo, can't talk to save his life, but what a body!" Likewise, hangry (I love this word) is described as, "When you are so hungry that your lack of food causes you to become angry, frustrated or both. An amalgam of hungry and angry invented to describe that feeling when you get when you are out at a restaurant and have been waiting over an hour to get the meal that you have ordered."
Now personally I am always on the verge of being hangry. I can admit it here. This Brand New Dave can easily get hangry 20 hours out of the day. But more importantly, I have railed against said himbos. Secretly, or not so secretly, passing snippy comments myself about them and their intelligence. If you were to harness the energy I expended to mock this group you might light a small city for a few seconds - they basically made me mad because I believe all people have more to offer than pretty exteriors but sometimes I was proven wrong with this group...
Well I was taught a lesson today. You see today, I was mistaken for a Himbo. And boy was I hangry.
Impossible you say! (I know, not the hangry part - LOL) Well I agree with that. Forget the body image issues, I mean come on - I am in ok shape these days - but no way could I rise to Himbo status. I mean Dimbo (I know a stretch) yes, Himbo, no. It might actually become a goal after my experience - and perhaps I might have found my next political cause - "Himbos are people too..." or "Have you hugged your himbo today?" I have never been treated like an object - in any sense of the word.
Well granted, I was in Himbo attire - A short sleeve shirt and gym shorts, and yes it was 16 degrees out today... (and ok all you 'moms' out there I had a jacket on too - but not zipped) I simply was coming from the gym right to a food source... I was shopping in Whole Foods, apparently the lair of said Himbos and I was talking about my workout (I just cringed writing that - LOL), but I'm getting ahead of myself...
You see, I was at the breakfast bar after my workout, quite hungry and in a rush... Now I tend to make friends in places I frequent and Whole Foods has a few... One cashier and I have struck up a friendship over healthy eating and working out... She tells me great stories about her husband and kids and the misadventures of all that and her exercise routine, et al. I tend to try to go to her if I see her, just for the pleasantries and the fact she is more than able to handle my order... With recycled carton in hand I see her and approach her line... This is where the fun begins...
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a furry pouf moving at high speed. As I turn to glance I see the pouf is attached to a head and a body and she clearly is trying to get in front of me in line. She has a shopping cart full of stuff and clearly knows the inconvenience of letting me with my two items go ahead of her. With bedazzled cell phone in hand and talking in a high drone of a voice she successfully pulls ahead of me and gets in line. Whomever she was talking to the conversation was a vapid discussion at best - name dropping designers and bemoaning the woe to this seasons look. In other words she really had nothing to say. It is notable that her safari through Neiman Marcus Last Call was a success based on the number of mis-matched pelts she sported. I mean she actually epitomized lions, and tigers and bears - truly oh my.
Our crazed cougar revealed herself some more when she began to talk about all the "younger" guys who are "after" her. How its so much more fun than being married to "him" and in fact every time she said "him" she glanced around as if "he" would pop out of the woodwork or something.
Now my cashier friend is a professional. She was just doing her job - when the cougar starts going into her sexploits of late. Now, I think part of this whole exercise is the apparent shock value of this "frank" conversation and its reverse voyeurism, with the person desperate to reveal there "business" to the world... This next piece is my favorite, she actually, while holding a package of sausage, begins to give excessive gory details of her, as she put it, "stud's" nocturnal activities. The cashier looked at me, I looked at her and we began to chat over the droning pouf and her studly sausage...
Well that did not make our local temptress happy at all, in fact she starts telling her vapid friend, "Don't you think its rude when people distract people from their jobs. I mean really..."
Now I ignored it, thinking that any minute she would pull out a container of cottage cheese from the cart and talk about someone they hated's thighs... But she was talking, oddly in absentia, to me... I just continued talking... She finally had enough and looked at me and said, "Can you stop talking to her, she needs to (here's the punch line) focus on me." Now, I am hangry but not stupid and say "ok". My cashier friend smiles at me and she just keeps moving.
The woman then goes back to her cell phone conversation, and pretends or not, that I have fallen stone deaf as she continues. "Oh I know... If I don't stick up for me, who will... I'm mean he's just some himbo. It's winter and he's wearing shorts... Yeah, probably dumb as a rock..."
Well I'm not gonna let this one get in the way of my ever cooling breakfast. I decided to just pretend that I didn't hear it and move on. If she needs me to be the dumb himbo so be it - just let me eat my eggs...
Her $413.18 order is rung up. In fact she comments to her friend something about shoes and the prices... All the while she's on the phone she never once breaks out her purse to get her cash or credit card ready... She actually plops this rather large, animal print (surprise!) purse down in the cart - opens it like the arc of the covenant, and proceeds to fish around looking for her wallet. From my view it looked like a faux diamond mine in there with various items equally bedazzled as her ever present cell phone... Bling is still apparently in...
Finally out rolls the Onyx Am Ex... How do I know it's the Onyx Am Ex you ask? She tells her friend of course, she'll put in on the Onyx Am Ex and ex husband "him" (yes see looked around again) will just have to pay for it, ha ha ha!
Now this one looks like she's experienced with a credit card... she clearly knows how to use them... But princess puts the credit card the wrong way in the swipe and keeps doing it for at least 15 times. And every time she does it she sighs, pouts and makes the froggy face before her next try. She finally says, "This is not working!"
I decide to have some fun. I say to her, "You need to slide your card the other way..." I thought she was about it say, "It speaks", but she frowned, she looks and does it - and it works... She doesn't even say thank you. She just continues to blather on with her friend and even says, "look at that this himbo knows something..."
For the first time in my life, I think I had it with stupidity of that magnitude... but cold eggs are worse. I didn't need to worry about a snappy retort cause let's face it, if it didn't have a designer label or bling or shining object she could care less... But more importantly, I could care less. You see I think she simply is beyond repair, or when repair happens it ain't gonna be pretty.
I watched the faux animal lovin' pouf march out of the store... Still talking, still complaining and in character almost get hit by a delivery truck (guess who I was routing for) as she and her privileged little self made it to her expensive SUV.
My cashier friend and I said nothing, but as I was paying, properly with a debit card, she looked, smiled and said "not bad for a himbo"
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