|Get that checkbook out honey and hold up the line - why don't you put your bags in your shopping cart?|
Folks, I really try to keep my blog postings positive and happy but sometimes I just have to vent. I just returned from my local supermarket. Normally I don't like to go at this time of the evening because the store is crowded with folks getting off from work, or moms who pick their kids up from school. I usually go early in the morning before these folks get up. I like quiet. I can't stand screaming kids running up and down the aisles. What I also can't stand are those women (and it is ALWAYS women, sorry ladies) who pull out their checkbooks to pay for their groceries.
So here I am late today, getting ready to prepare my dinner. I wanted to make some buttermilk biscuits and I have no buttermilk. All the food I have in this house (and it is TOO MUCH) and yet I'm missing an INGREDIENT. This also drives me nuts but that's a subject of another blog post.
I take my run to the store. Of course Bill has to go with me. Where would I be without my backseat driver? Which, resulted in another row between us because I didn't take his advice and pull in front of a car making a right hand turn to make my left hand turn but THAT is also a subject of another blog posting. I REALLY don't want to go there in this posting either. We had a major shouting match over that one. Bill doesn't seem to realize that there is only ONE driver of the car. I don't know how many times I've told him we BOTH can't drive the car at the same time. But I said I wasn't going to go THERE at this time so I won't. I vented a little bit anyway.
So here I am, at the supermarket, dodging kids, humming annoying tunes and doing pirouettes in the aisles, absent minded adults who leave their grocery carts in the middle of the aisles and the always single woman (or gay man as it may be and has been all to often for me here in Gayberry U.S.A. - my fate in life being the desirable man that I am) who is trying to get my attention for a Super Market Meeting (just like they read about how to meet THAT MAN in the supermarket freezer section).
I get my buttermilk. Wind my way through the late afternoon shoppers WITH THE NEVER ENDING TALKATIVE KIDS (don't those kids ever shut up? That Little Kid Voice irritates me to no end, I hear enough of it in TV commercials which, for some reason the people who make commercials think that Munchkin Little Voice is all so cute - it isn't) to the shortest checkout line. I find it. There is an Old Lady in front of me. Uh huh. Well, I'll take my chances.
WRONG DECISION RON. I see she has a pen in her hand. You know what that means folks don't you? SHE'S.GOING.TO.WRITE.A.CHECK. Oh.My.God. What is it with these women and writing checks at the supermarket checkout? Didn't they ever hear of a credit or debit card? And ladies (all my lady friends, no offense), why is it ALWAYS women with the checks? I don't get it.
So I watch Grandmom. She mumbling something to the checker as he's checking out her items. Of course she doesn't have her checkbook ready, they never do. They always wait until every item is checked out then they go digging into their carry on bag for their purse. God forbid she would have her checkbook ready, but she did have her pen ready. I'll give her credit for that.
The checker finishes ringing her items up. Grandmom says "Oh!" (she finally stopped babbling) and pulls out her checkbook. It's stuffed with coupons. OH.MY.GOD. Now she's trying to match up the coupons with the items she's purchased.
The lane next to me opens and the checker says to the lady behind me "I'm open!" Well, I missed that one.
I patiently wait while Grandmom is dishing through her coupons. We're not getting anywhere. The checker in the next lane has already checked out the lady behind me. I gather up my ONE ITEM and move to her lane. She checks me out and as I leave the store I see Grandmom still sorting through her coupons. OH.MY.GOD.
Well, to be fair, maybe this is the only time she gets out of her musty lair. Whatever.
Now I'm very agitated. I have no patience folks with this scenario. I've seen it too many times.
Then I get in the car, with Bill waiting for me. Now I'm traffic with the folks who pay my monthly Social Security checks. Lots of traffic on the road. I take the back road. As I get to the road near our home I have to make a left hand turn. There is a car in the opposite direction indicating they want to make a left hand turn in front of me. I'm not comfortable turning in this situation so I wait. Bill's screaming at me "Turn! Turn!" I don't turn in front but go behind her. I don't know what the rule is in this situation but I just am not comfortable making a left hand turn in front of someone coming in the opposite direction making also making a left hand turn in front of me. Someone tell me the rule.
So Bill goes berserk. He's not the best teacher. He screams and yells. I think he was in the service too long (three years Army and four years Air Force).
So I get home. He's furious at me. I'm highly agitated because I got behind one of THOSE WOMEN WHO PULL THE CHECK BOOK OUT TO PAY FOR THEIR GROCERIES.
And all for buttermilk to make some buttermilk biscuits. I think I'll make those biscuits now, maybe it'll calm me down.
Every day is an adventure folks. Every day.
|My buttermilk biscuits - the best!|