..okay..
So a bunch of my friends and family are getting together this weekend for a Camp Clean Up thing. We go up, and get the place ready for a summer of lakeside fun.
So, today, I ran to the grocery store to pick up a few things… hot dogs and buns, and ingredients for my killer rum cake.
I am about halfway through the store, and this older gentleman grabs me by the arm and starts talking to me, and then says, “oops I thought you were my wife!”..
okay..NOW I was awake.
About one row later, I noticed that my cart had a bag of iceberg lettuce in it. I didn’t put lettuce IN my cart. Okay, so I removed that and laid it on some cans of dog food or whatever was there. I left my cart again, and came back and there was creamed herring in a jar at the front of my cart.
Okay, without getting into the specifics of my emotions toward pickled herring…may I just say, capital YUCK.
I left that somewhere, too…
I finally got up to the check-out, with like 15 items… and started perusing through my acquisitions as the check-out lady was ringing me up. We are almost done, and I asked, “um, did you see any hot dogs or hot dog buns in that cart???”
She read through the receipt, “nope.” So lettuce/slash/creamed herring dude was also REMOVING groceries from my cart.
I said, “okay, I need to run back.’
Ran to one end of the store for the buns, another end for the weenies.. and got back to the counter.
I apologized and said, “it has been a weird shopping day. First I have my arm grabbed, then these things start appearing in my cart.”
She wanted to know what things.
She asked, “So, where is the creamed herring NOW?”
I said “somewhere out THERE…..” as I made ocean-like gestures with my arms.
That got her on the intercom pretty quickly… I guess there is some kind of Code Yuck for creamed herring on the loose.
I AGAIN apologized and said, “sorry, i didn’t put it in my cart, so i have NO idea where it goes.” (all I could think about at that .2 second flash was “this needs to leave my hand..NOW!”)
For all the people I torqued off for rapidly snapping a jar of fish out of my cart, I might not be shopping there for awhile.
And to the cute little old guy who thought I was his wife? I hope you aren’t craving your creamed herring tonight.
