First of all, I have to share this with you: I'm sitting in my home office working and hubby is in his home office working. He's got his record player going (Yes, his office is very retro. Leather chair, record player, Sinatra album covers on the wall. He's a smoking jacket shy of transporting himself to another era.) Suddenly, he blares Big and Rich's "Save a House Ride a Cowboy." We have a moment jamming to that fun, wildly inappropriate tune.
26 years married and I just love him to pieces.
Meanwhile, I've just returned from Target where I've had a terrible experience. Now, normally my Target experiences aren't nearly as colorful as my Walmart experience. For all Target says they're inclusive to everyone, I find way more diversity at Walmart. Maybe it's because Walmart has a wider selection of items whereas Target has wider aisles. Who knows. But, normally I can go to Target, find 80-85% of what I'm looking for (I never find everything. I mean, it's Target. It's not like they carry everything. Like plus sized clothing. Or running shoes for women. Or the right kind of gummy
melatonin.)
Anyway, I was at Target today and I went for one thing: cubed cheddar cheese. I wanted to put it in a pasta salad because Hubby requested it and I like to make stuff he requests because he doesn't usually ask me to make stuff. Well by the time I got to the check out I had the cheese and about $50 worth of other stuff.
I'm a people person. I like chatting with complete strangers about nothing. (I get a little more standoffish once I get to know people because then I feel like I have to be better behaved or something. It's a thing I have.) I am GREAT in check out lines because I can chat with the cashier non stop.
Except today.
I got my stuff on the belt and the guy said, "Hi. Do you have coupons?"
I have coupons, tons of them. But they are all at my house. Because all I needed was cheese.
He says nothing else, which is weird because they are always pushing the Red Card, which I have. He scans my stuff and when he gets to the cheese I say, "I came for the cheese. The rest of this just fell into my cart."
Now normally that line would have the cashier in stitches.
Nothing from this guy. NOTHING. He didn't even look at me. He just kept scanning and putting stuff on the end there so I could put it in my cart.
I tried again, "But you know, it's Target, you never get out of here for under $80."
That's a line that has had people waiting behind me laughing in the past. But NOTHING from this guy. He stops scanning and tells me my total. I insert my card. I want to make a comment about the noise these new chip readers make (Seriously, do they have to sound like a fire alarm on the Enterprise?) but why waste my good cashier chat lines on this guy?
I put the last of my items into my cart. He doesn't even say thank you or anything.
Now, either I've lost my mojo or I just had THE WORST cashier experience ever. I actually fretted about this on the way home. Because, hey, if I'm not funny anymore, what's the point?
So I thought, "Well, I'll try this story out on my readers and see if I'm still funny."
So readers, you be the judge. Have I lost my power of mirth?
Oh, I should warn you...TODD...that this little story involves female punctuation. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
Last week I had yet another female punctuation. (Seriously, can we just get on with menopause and be done with this nonsense?) I'd run out of my female protection items so I headed to tho nearest grocery story to restock.
Now, the nearest grocery store...well, the name doesn't matter. It's worse than Pick N Save, that's really all you need to know. Well, that and it's been sold and will be a different grocery store by the end of the year.
I never go there. But I was on that side of town. I walked in and it was rather like walking into a funeral home. It was quiet, devoid of people..and you just had a feeling that death was coming or there already.
First I needed a couple birthday cards so I headed over to the card and flower section. Let me tell you, when a grocery store changes goes out of business I guess the card and flower area is the first to die. The birthday card rack looked like the recycling dumpster opened up and envelops and crappy "from the dog" cards fluttered out.
Not happy there I headed over to the feminine aisle. It still looked pretty well stocked so I looked around for my usual brand and then I remembered that in the 35 years I've been having my female punctuation, I haven't settled on a specific brand, style, count, lining material, or length. The only thing I do know is that I ALWAYS hate ALWAYS. I hate the lining, I hate the fact that even with wings those puppies leak all over the place. It's gross.
So count me among the surprised when I plopped a package of ALWAYS in my cart. I mean it looked like a new product. and the label promised 10 HOURS OF PROTECTION. I mean, look at the picture...10 hours.
Well, I thought to myself, this must be the most magical of all the feminine punctuation protectors ever invented. I must try these out!
I was meeting friends for adult beverages that evening, and I thought this would be a good time to test the ten hour thing. Not that I was going to be out for ten hours. No, I don't do that anymore. No I figured it this could handle a three hour "drinks" date with the girls from work, then this would be the thing I bought from now until that blessed day when I no longer need these stupid things and I can write about other fun things like hot flashes and decreasing bone density.
I opened the first one...and I wasn't happy. The thing is so long that it's actually long than the wrapper it's in. And because it's too long for its wrapper, the adhesive flap at the front end was folded over on itself. I looked. This was the case for every single one of the items.
Not a great start. I mean did they make the pad in the US and the wrappers in Germany> Is is this metric thing?
Still, a 10 hour promise is nothing to snort at...mostly because if you snort hard enough, and ladies, you will be me up, you can create a heavier punctuation flow. Exclamation points and quotation marks all over your jeans. It's not pretty. The same goes for laughing, sneezing, coughing, and oh my lord, standing up. Standing up after you've been sitting for a bit is sort of like opening up the dam. I'm not kidding.
So I decided the ultra protect myself. while I'm completely sub par at most things I am in the top percentile of accidental punctuation. So I slapped two of those extra long dealies in and I was pretty much covered stem to stern. I mean, through the transitive property, I should be covered for 20 hours. But I knew better than to expect. I figured I'd be happy if this got me through meeting the girls and maybe a tiny bit of the evening at home.
Off to happy hour I go.
We had a very nice evening. Couple of hours chatting about the kids and work and pets while nursing a blue beverage and then it was time to go home. And I stood up.
10 HOURS MY SWEET AUNT NESSIE!.
Two hours. Two hours and then I stood and BAM POW I needed a towel to sit on going home.
Got home, had to put everything in the laundry. I actually think the new item made MORE of a mess. Seriously. 10 hours? More like 10 minutes!
Oh, and the lining is still that nasty plastic stuff they ALWAYS use, so yep, on top of everything else, I had a pleasant little irritation going on.
Sheesh.
So my friends...have I lost it? Is the cashier at Target right? Am I no longer funny?
No comments:
Post a Comment