One of these tasks was the dreaded (by me, at least) trip to Costco for the next two months' supply of beer and wine, toilet paper, frozen boneless skinless chicken breasts and ground beef patties, fresh pineapple, and
Into the parking lot, dodge the departing shoppers with their walkers and oxygen tanks, grab a cart (one with four round wheels, this time), flash the membership card. Hard left, down the aisle at a lope, weaving around the vacant-eyed, slack-jawed woman in curlers, executing a perfect bump and roll around the Korean national jabbering on a cell phone. Grab the beer and wine, and heave the cart toward the fruits and veggies. Grab a package of pineapple on the fly, swing right toward the freezer section.
Blast. What size bag of chicken breasts? Quick phone call to the missus.
Grab my breasts and my meat (Stop. It.). Hard right at the end of the aisle, and I had the skids of soft drinks in my si—ABORT! ABORT! Hauling hard on my cart, I screeched to a cartoon halt to narrowly avoid colliding with a cart that had appeared from a side aisle, followed closely by an elderly man.
Crisis averted. The old duffer shuffled his way slowly down the aisle in front of me and, with time on my hands, I found myself wondering... what the hell is he wearing on his head?
I dismissed my conclusion twice before accepting what my eyes told me, but perched on this adult's head was a child's toy viking helmet, complete with eight-inch horns.
I worked my way past him, ostensibly to get to the Diet Coke. In reality, I just wanted to get a better look at this guy. I expected to see him smirking, like he was just goofing. Or scowling like he'd lost a bet. Maybe drooling a bit. What I saw was a neatly-dressed man of about 70 years, with his spectacles perched on his nose and their case clipped in his breast pocket. His expression was neutral and—notwithstanding his unsignaled merge into my lane—alert. Wearing a viking helmet cocked at a jaunty angle.
As far as I could see, his cart was conspicuously bereft of SPAM.
1 This didn't quite work out according to my plan. Turtle and I don't eat a lot of bagels at home, so I only needed a half dozen. Unfortunately, when I went to pay for all my stuff, the cashier informed me that they were "a dozen for [some amount of legal tender]" and didn't I want a full dozen? I told him no, thinking that I'd get my half dozen for half the price of a full dozen. Instead, he tossed my bagels to an assistant, who whisked them away somewhere. I asked what he was doing and only then did he bother to explain that it was a dozen or nothing. Not that I actually would have left my cart and all the people lined up behind me to go to the back of the store and grab six more bagels, but the whole business kind of left a bad, bagel-less taste in my mouth.
Now playing: Queensrÿche, Operation Mindcrime
7 comments:
Wait... The guy took your bagels away from you because you wouldn't buy 12? How rude! What is he, the Cosco police?
I am still chuckling over the older gentleman with the viking hat. That takes balls... or perhaps the LACK of. I can't decide. :)
I saw the title of this and was a bit afraid to read it and now after a sigh of relief, I am in utter disbelief that you are able to purchase bulk SPAM. That is good news because as we all know every spam is sacred.
Did the old guy with the viking hat have a big clock around his neck too? maybe he's a Flavor Flav fan!
It's always an adventure at Costco (or BJ's - the one we shop up here)...
I've always worn a Viking Helmet. Do you think that's odd?
Tink: The guy was just doing his job, but he could have done a better job of communicating the fact that it was an all or nothing proposition.
Emma: "Every spam is sacred"?? [groan] Go forth and give yourself a proper flogging. And I don't know whether Costco has SPAM in bulk. I just know there wasn't any in Eric the Red's cart.
Allez: Beats me. I've heard of Flavor Flav, but I wouldn't know him from Fitty Cent.
Lou: Yes, always.
Gwynne: Odd? No. Amusing? Very. Send pictures.
Susie: I have a camera phone, but what I don't have is the subscription to the service that would allow me to upload the pictures off the camera.
The chicken breasts come in 6-pound bags and 10-pound bags. Ten pounds is a whole lotta breast (if you're a chicken).
Send pictures.
Posted. ;-)
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