Is it all the writing and blogging that makes me have an internal monologue running through my head, thinking what's funny about the world, what would be good to write about, rather than living in the actual moment? Do any of you do this too?
So, I thought about lots of things while I got groceries today, and I must warn you: Nothing all that interesting happened. Sure, if the store was robbed or Marv Albert came in wearing crotchless panties and bit a woman's ass, then the thing would write itself, especially that second one. However, to me, writing a blog and attempting to make it funny and/or interesting, without embellishing details, when nothing all that noteworthy went down, was seen as a challenge in my eyes. Is this exactly what's wrong with blogging? Maybe so. Well, if you'd rather move onto something more sexy like that New York hooker's myspace who blew that Governor right out office, go right ahead.
Do you care what you look like at your grocery store? As I'm talking to my roommate and tweaking my hair, he asked me if I was going out. "Nope," I said. "Just going to Club Jewel." Let me explain. We call the Jewel, may be called Albertson's by you, across the street from our place Club Jewel, because the people are so darned pretty there. We used to call it Hot Girl Jewel, and then met some girls who called it Hot Guy Jewel. How odd that this shop brings in all the hunks and babes, right? That being said, you actually have to get dolled up a little before you go, because the women in there look like TV Spokes Models on Star Search*.
Do you eat like a grown-up or like a kindergartner during snack time? A young couple in the same aisle as me was talking about cooking something, what should be used to marinate it, or whatever, and I started to think how I need to eat more like a grown-up. My dad is one hell of a cook, I'm sure I could learn a lot from him, impress women by cooking for them, be a lot healthier, and maybe a little happier. I thought all of this while I stealthily grabbed my six pack of beef ramen noodles and ducked out of that aisle.
Have you met, have you tried, or do you hope to one day meet memebers of the opposite sex while grocery shopping? I did see some good looking birds eye balling produce and comparing unit prices*, but I have a girlfriend right now. That's right, I said the GF word, it's kind of a big deal that I'm using the words, being that it's a promotion from Special Lady Friend, which would probably be an interesting subject, but we're not here to talk about anything interesting and nothing personal on this blog for a few posts. We're here to talk groceries, damn you! So, I wasn't macking on any of the Grocery Girlies, but even when I was single, that's a tough approach, right? I think that in other countries people converse more with strangers, but here in America, especially in big cities, we're taught and/or conditioned not to make eye contact at any cost. It's to the point where if you just try to point out a better deal to a gal, she may freak out, mace you, and kick you in the balls. Well, it's not to that point. I'm just saying it's a tough opener.
When you put your items on the conveyor belt, do you look at what the person in front of you is buying? Why am I even asking? Everyone does. Do you then make inferences based on what types of things they buy? For instance, if they have lots of lean cuisines, then they're probably single. If they buy lots of organic shit, then they're tree hugging hippies. If he buys a bottle of Jack and a 20-pack of rubbers, then he's Gancer. You know, just little inferences like that. Anyway, the gal in front of me had some high class items, but I had too many man-child items to hide. I looked to hide my ramen noodles, but when I moved some items to hide it I saw my Chef Boyardee in plain view.** She's going to be making some very obvious judgements, and they will be dead on.
Do you like paper or plastic? Wow, this is getting flipping boring, but seriously, I'm a paper man. When I walk home from the store I always have way too many things to carry and no little cart thing, cause I'm not quite old enough to be That Guy, so all those plastic bag handles burrow into my hands. Today I had two real heavy, double paper bagged loads, perfectly loaded by yours truly. I exercise a fair amount, but I never do any kind of weight training. Is it bad that one of the only times I feel the burn on my triceps is when I waddle home with twenty pounds of groceries in each hand?
Your turn, readers. Answer one or more of the questions in bold type at the start of these boring paragraphs.
*A very dated reference, but well worth it for the people who remember. Do you think Ed McMahon got on any of those models? If I had to guess, I'd have to say, "Ha ha! Yes! You are correct, sir."
**They were on sale for $.79 a can, since you asked.