Haunting Tales from the Tummy Temple

 

After another dreary dark day of rain it was time to embrace the chill in the sunshine and visit my favorite place – the Tummy Temple.

Seems like forever I’ve wandered the aisles, viewing the holy Cola water and the exotic oils that no one can pronounce.

The cathedral was rather packed today so other parishioners must have felt the call. Once I found a zip cart to place my donations and finding a working remote control barcode scanner, I was off to explore the hidden wonders in the catacombs of consumption.

There is never a list or scripture passage I follow, but being insulated in the never-ending variety of soy sauce or sugar cereal I know the way. Most is like window shopping for things I’ll never bring home, but it fulfills my soul that so many spent so much of their time and effort to concoct a method that is new, buttery, sweet, long lasting, great tasting, family size, low fat, low price item that has it’s little notch on a shelf with all of it’s cousins.

I had an idea of what I wanted to eat and I knew where the items were, but it is never that easy. While the overhead choir sang, “Don’t stop believing”, I turned to the deli atrium. I do not intermingle with the carvers of cheese and kosher meat for special orders but rather pick up the pre-package preparations. Today was going to be the Ukrop’s Chicken Salad. (*Note: There is no Ukrop’s anymore but slap a name on it, raise the price and it will sell just on memories. Someone is missing out on the Thalhimer’s chocolate cake or the Miller & Rhoades tea rolls. How about some Clover Room ice cream or Bill’s Barbecue limeade?)

Don’t know what it is like in your Tummy Temple but the deli area is a section for gathering and telling stories while the disillusioned or culinary dyslexic have a ‘Come To Jesus’ meeting. Since the second phase of the Temple Tummy daily visits are to add steps to my walk or die heart chart, I scoot around the mass and wander to the bananas or shrimp on ice or wrapped cow pieces or a sundry of cans, bottles, boxes and bags to temp the taste buds until the deli crowd disbands.

If you don’t realize it, the more time you spend in the Tummy Temple, the more you donate. You didn’t want those chips but while you were waiting for the confused telephone conversation to verify sour cream or cheese, a bag wound up in your basket.

I try to make a quick jog around to the spots of places where my regulars are placed but when it is packed, as it was today, the pace slows down. Rather than road rage and a speed up crashing into the bumper cars or knocking over the lost in the wilderness, I detour to another passage and proceed slowly. Should I get another container of butter? Why don’t they have coffee ice cream? Better get another bottle of hot sauce because there is always a need for more hot sauce.

Even the checkout stalls are full so another venture around the walls of winery without stopping. Finally I wheel into my slot, more numbers show up on my list (how long have I been in here?) and I walk back into the sunshine stuffed with anticipation of filling my tummy with all these yummy while still in stretch pants.

I’ll be back tomorrow for another session in studying society without interaction and excuse for exercise. Besides I’m getting low on blueberries and peanut tithing to the woodland worshipers.

Let us pray for another day.

Amen.