Friday, March 26, 2010

Going to the store

After a gray rainy morning deflating a few warm sunny days, there was a break in the clouds which I clutched at to venture into the dampness.

Preparing myself at the end of the alley after scaring the yard bunny, I checked the sky and the wind, the clouds and started my breathing exercise, stretching my still damp gloves and adjusting my mirror.

The air felt like a winter air, rather than the warm almost spring sent, so instead of my usual route, I proceeded to the store under rain drops and stopping for guys in trucks blocking my path to talk to one-another then wander off in different directions with the sound of monster leaf movers in the background.

I attacked a hill before the metal dinosaurs could grab me and mailed my statement for the Media General board selection.

Reaching the bike rack, I noticed the number of slow, old people venturing in a similar direction. Once inside I realized the notice on the weather that a chill factor was approaching was the same as a snow alert.

I had my list of fish food, bird seed, bread, sandwich meat, mustard ( a struggle due to a slow restocking and people who look at the variety of mustard as if they were purchasing an automobile), and BEER.

But my best intentions were derailed by the pace of the shoppers around me.

I get frustrated with people who park their carts and stare at cereal boxes or cans of beans or washing detergent or frozen dinners as if they are best sellers. These "shoppers" are not examining the ingredients or health values. They are reading each can as a billboard for a food product.

This would be an interesting study for an advertising marketer, but for a guy who wants to come in, get his stuff, and get out.... these folks just get in my way.

So, since it was going to be a cold wet day, and the other humanoid who wandered the aisles made a half hour trip into an eternity, I started picking up "comfort food". Chicken wings dipped in barbecue sauce and potato wedges dipped in cheese and bacon. Just shoot me now.

The cold wind on the ride home did not calm me down, but packing in all the food I didn't want or need did.

And I got a call from a repair man who should have called yesterday. Whoopee.

So I will be stuffed in bed tonight, a cold night, like a winter night, thinking of what new expense I'll have to pay to get back to normal.

But what is normal?

1 comment:

TripleG said...

Your frustrating grocery store experience seems to be the norm. Sometimes you just want to go postal, but guess who would be hauled away? Not the rude clueless zombies who bumble around...