Tuesday, December 21, 2010

twelve days of drama

No mystery parcel has shown up on our doorstep this year.

I suspect we must have sufficiently pissed off our secret twelve days of Christmas ornament sender, for them to finally throw their arms up in frustration and declare us unworthy. The past seven years, a box bearing neither identifying marks nor Gwyneth Paltrow's head has always made its appearance around the end of November.

As you may recall, there was a bit of drama involved with the attempted delivery last year. As a consequence, the twelve days of Christmas will be reduced to seven, evidently. Take a lesson from this, kiddies; if you refuse to pay the postage on a parcel that someone is trying to send you, they will be offended.

Naturally the Offspring and I were delighted to find that there was no shortage of drama in the lineup at Safeway this afternoon. Even though we were trapped in line between the warring parties, not daring to look at one another for fear of losing it, we both agreed that our lives have been enriched by the exchange between the ditzy shopper and the impatience grandmother, who shall be henceforth known as our own personal Hot Slut of the Day.

The Ditzy Shopper did not get off to a good start, there in front of us in the fifteen items or less line. I'm sure she didn't mean any harm, but when she spread the Royal Wedding magazine open on the conveyour belt so that she could read it, she did cause a bit of a cart unloading backup, a fact which I am sure did not go unnoticed by the HSotD grandmother behind us. But she sealed her fate by remembering, as she was paying for her groceries, that she had forgotten to get what she called "school milk" for her son. The grocery bagger went to go fetch it for her, as the line behind us grew.

And grew. And grew. Until finally, HSotD demanded rather loudly what's the holdup here?

My kid needs milk Ditzy told her.

Hot Slut's voice rose, in octave and volume what do you mean, your kid needs milk? Why didn't you buy it when you were shopping?

They went to get me some milk, Ditzy explained, and then tried to defend herself against Hot Slut's deepening glare, I offered to get it! I could have gotten it a lot faster than them.

Hot Slut straightened up and fixed her with a baleful eye, I noticed you reading a magazine there.


Just noticing the way you shop, Hot Slut dismissed her, and then turned to the woman behind her in line and proclaimed, some people have got it and some people haven't!

At this point Ditzy tried to make light of things by offering up lame jokes like I'm wearing heels, I can't shop in them, and when that didn't break the ice, I was born to shop, not to cook.

At this point the cashier, who had earlier disappeared in search of the bagger who had initially gone to fetch the milk, returned and apologized to Ditzy for the delay.

Tell it to the lady who yelled at me, Ditzy told her.

I think the cashier assumed that was me, because when she started ringing my groceries through, she looked up at me and it was just like a deer caught in the headlights. Too bad she didn't know it was actually the best thing that had happened to the Offspring and I all day.

Have you been privy to any good drama lately?


L said...

Wow. That IS good drama. I have to admit, with nothing left to really shop for, I have been avoiding those situations.

Interesting about the missing annual Christmas package. And confusing. You'd think they'd be more persistent.

Barbara Bruederlin said...

Around my house grocery shopping is never really done, Lesley, a fact for which I was rather glad that day.
The mysterious gifters have been remarkably persistent over the past seven years, and I do not blame them one bit for giving up after last year's drama. I prefer that it end before I discover who the gifts were from, actually. I love that the mystery will remain intact.


What is it with our neighbourhood store??? When I was in there last week a couple of the cashiers were chatting about a certain bag/stock boy/man that had anger "issues" that he was still working at getting under control. I knew who they were talking about as I've seen him express his wrath on the shopping carts many a time in the parking lot.

So when I ran in there last night for a few things I couldn't find at the STORE I REALLY SHOP AT and was accosted by the aforementioned psycho anger management bag/stock boy/man I was to be frank, not thrilled.

He was busy stocking shelves and had his back to me as I whizzed on past in pursuit of cranberries. I heard him say, "Are you finding everything" but since his back was to me and there was no eye contact I did not answer. Next thing I know this HULK (not HUNK) is standing right beside me in produce with his face into mine, "Are you finding everything?"

"Why yes I am, thanks." (now fuck off I said under my breath) I grabbed my cranberries and headed towards the back of the store.

I whipped up and down some aisles and found myself near the front of the store when there was a huge crash. I looked to the left and he had knocked over/fell over? his pallets of pepsi. Which resulted in him yelling/moaning at the top of his lungs in some animalistic roar. While he clutched his hair and bent over at the waist and howled. Over and over again.

Right near the express till. Which brought the night manager running over to him and for the entire store to go silent. And I ran back down an aisle to look for other stuff to buy so there wasn't a hope in hell I could make eye contact with him. Fortunately he was led away somewhere and I was able to get to the till.

Full moon? UGH!

PS Too bad about that Christmas prezzie. Maybe it's your turn to pick up the torch and do it for someone else? Say someone in your neighbourhood.....?

This comment has been removed by the author.
This comment has been removed by the author.
This comment has been removed by the author.
Barbara Bruederlin said...

There must be something about that store which fosters drama,UB. I believe I know the individual of whom you speak, although to be honest I have just seen his bipolar side, not his anger issue side. And my tale pales in comparison to yours. I miss all the really good stuff!

Wandering Coyote said...

Way too funny, Barb!

No, no dramas for me - thank God! Not sure I could handle any.

Wandering Coyote said...

I just reread the posts about the mystery parcels and I have to say I wouldn't have accepted the COD one either. Seriously. That's just lame of someone to expect that of you.

Barbara Bruederlin said...

Drama is only fun when it happens to someone else, WC, and you are in the mood for it.
Well, the COD wasn't a lot of money, but ... I didn't ask for it.

Allison said...

Ha ha ha! This had me laughing out loud. I love a little check out drama. I did overhear a few choice words in various lines this week at airports.

Yes, a few choice words.

Barbara Bruederlin said...

Oh lawd, I imagine you heard your share of airport drama, Al! I'm surprised no one rioted. Must be all the queueing indoctrination in the UK.