I was painting, so Victor went to the grocery store without me. At our Publix, we drive up a winding ramp to park on the second or third floor. The supermarket itself is on the ground floor.
After you buy your groceries, you push your cart on a moving sidewalk, which is at about a 45∘ angle to take you and your cart back to your car. The carts have brakes on them, which employ when the cart is on the belt, so that it can’t roll back toward you.
Victor got on the moving sidewalk. Twenty feet ahead of him was a woman, also with a cart, about 30, wearing a very short skirt.
(This is a picture of where she would have been in relation to Victor. This woman is a stand-in for the short-skirted one in the story.)
She turned and looked right at Victor, my retired, 65 year old husband. Then she turned back around and bent over and touched her toes. She remained that way for about ten seconds. She was not wearing underpants.
When she got off the ramp, she turned and looked at Victor.
Her face was blank. She just looked at him and then walked away.
When Victor told me about this, I asked him what kind of car she was driving. (That particular Publix is well known for having lavish cars like Bentleys, Austin Martins and Ferraris in the lot.) Victor said he didn’t look.
I fully understand that there are peculiar people in Miami Beach. I do. But how could Victor not watch to see what kind of car a female flasher would be driving? This is information anyone would want to know. I will never understand Victor.