I'm on my own this weekend as Hans had to go out of town on business.
And boy, there's gonna be some wild partying going on here, let me tell you! I've got on my sweat pants and Chlorox (who's in charge of the hors' d'oeuvre's) has spent most of the day turning herself inside out and chasing what I assume is a mouse but I've yet to see or hear it.
And of course there was my crazy, zany, fun trip to WalMart where every idiot this side of the Mississippi decided to shop, at the exact same time as me.
First, the parking lot where I swear the driver in front of me was blind because there's no other explanation for it.
Yes, please leave your overflowing cart in the middle of the aisle while you go visit with Bubba and the WHOLE Bubba family because "I aint seen you since last week at Bingo." And don't even think of giving me a dirty look when I shove your stupid cart to the side.
I know if I were a child I'd behave a lot better too if my mother shrieked and screamed at me and told me to shut the F up.
You there, in front of the bakery rack, with your cart blocking the entire bread section. Can you see me twisting my body into positions it was never meant to be in while I try to reach around you to get a GD loaf of Italian bread? And please forgive me when I say through clenched teeth, "I've been in this place long enough." in response to your "I'm gonna wait right here till they bring some fresh bread out. They're baking it right now you know." comment.
After dodging way too many slow moving, aisle hogging locals I raced for the under 20 items checkout counter and got behind old 'let me tell you my life story' lady and the 'let me listen and then give you my life story' cashier. "Aren't these niiize?" We all got to look at the candy dishes that were placed on the conveyor belt. "Just perfect for Christmas presents, doncha think? Except this one's chipped. Should I go back and get another?" The cashier gushed that, yes, they're just wonderful and then we got to hear about all the crafty things she's done for the past twenty Christmases, and they both finally decide that some glue and glitter will probably take care of the chip. At this point I leaned on my cart, groaned, and under my breath, muttered, "Oh please shut the hell up and get moving." I looked up to see the cashier at the next counter watching me and I think she reads lips.
Finally 'life story lady' was bagged up and then and only then did she haul out her check book. Could she have been prepared and had the damn thing filled out with just the amount remaining to be filled in?
Of course not.
This then resulted in "I know you're honest but I need to see some ID." Chuckle, chuckle.
A lot of digging through a massive purse finally produced a driver's license and then Sweet Jesus, someone couldn't read the numbers.
I almost cried.
I'm not kidding when I say it's damned lucky that the people I encountered on my way out were quick on their feet or I would have run them over and never looked back.
This all happened by noon!
When Hans called to tell me he was on the road and would call me later I told him that I'd locked myself in the house with my sewing machine and, except for my run I was going nowhere.
"I don't care if I have to eat cat food or wipe with sandpaper! Nothing will get me back to that store today!"
And then I remembered that I forgot to buy Gouda cheese.
This is Chlorox's (the gourmand) and my favorite snack, and we share some every evening.
Why do I have the feeling that Hans might be might relieved to be on the road this weekend?