Thursday, July 10, 2008

Grocery Grump

It's me.  I know this.  In fact, I have even come to accept it.  Life is too short to spend all that time trying to change things that can't be altered.  It should be spent stockpiling canned food and worrying about zombies.

I cannot go to the grocery store without some sort of issue.  Stuff just happens.  Conveyor belts jam.  There is an inexplicable bottleneck in the spinach section.  Children suddenly take possession of all the carts and begin ramming everything in sight.  One night, when I stopped at the market close to where I used to work in the evenings, I was even privileged to witness a game of butternut squash football.  Apparently the produce department staff are not as well supervised in the later hours of store operation.  

Stuff happens.  I accept it.  But I always think about the things I might say if I didn't have that nasty Censor Switch installed in my brain by my mom back in the formative years.  Here are some of the thoughts I had today:

To The Loving Couple:

Your love is a beautiful thing.  I can see in your eyes the years you've spent together and the many more you have yet to travel together along this crazy road we call Life.  I can tell that you are on vacation and that this little side trip to the store is just one more magical place for you to spend time in each other's company.  However, I need some chips.  I have been diligently and virtuously working out this week in what can only be called Ungodly Heat And Humidity and I feel that some nice cheddar/soy chips are my due.  If you could maybe find someplace else to stare into one another's eyes and lovingly brush the errant hairs from one another's brows, that'd be keen.  The soy chip aisle is not appropriate for this.  I presume you have rented a room somewhere around here.  Go there.

To The Delivery Staff Who Who Wait In Their Trucks Until I Arrive Then Rush In To Begin Stocking The Shelves:

You blocked my access to the Diet Mountain Dew.  No more needs to be said on this matter.  I think we understand each other.

To Those Guys Holding The Wires And Standing On Top Of The Freezers Looking Confused:

First, please tell me that you didn't do anything to mess up my frozen pepperoni pizza.  It is one of the few things I will eat and, without it, I shall surely starve.  Whatever you were doing up there, I sincerely hope that it did not involve the safety and bacterial content of my foodstuffs.  Secondly, please stop dropping wire bits on my head.  Not cool.

To The Happy, Peppy Pre-Teen Practicing Cheers:

You are fooling no one.  Real cheerleaders do not practice their cheers in the grocery store.  Especially not when shopping with their dads.  You are a cheering wannabe.  I know this because I used to practice cheers in the grocery store back when I was more on the happy/peppy end of the life spectrum.  Sort of.  I suppose I was never really all that happy/peppy.  I guess that's why I didn't make the cheering cut.  I'm certain it didn't have anything to do with my utter lack of coordination and fear of heights.

To Our Canadian Guest Who Was Pulling His Screaming Child From The Liquor Shelves:

Have you really thought this one through?  I mean, I hate to state the obvious, but alcohol is known to be a depressant and I've seen lots of people just nod off after a nip or two.  I'm just saying...

To The Checkout Lady Who Was Very Nice And Really Wanted To Be Efficient:

The speed with which you cashed me out was pretty impressive.  I could tell that you were really proud of yourself.  I almost didn't tell you that you had only scanned half my groceries before tallying the final cost for me.  It broke my heart to have to point it out...but the frozen pepperoni pizza was in that forgotten pile of grocery goods and I just couldn't leave it behind.  Your apologies over the whole thing were very kind, though.  You maybe could have stopped after the third heartfelt expression of self-loathing, but I know that you meant well.  

What can I say?  I had lots of Loving/Peppy/Shelf-Blocking/Wire-Dropping/Screaming/Checking-Out-Twice time to thing about this sort of stuff.  

Aw, heck.  I'm probably just grumpy.  I blame the knitting.  I'm not admitting to anything but there may or may not have been a circular thing being knit over the past couple of days.  It probably wasn't yet another attempt at a sweater because I have been living under a Blog Sweater Curse since opening up shop here at Sheepish Annie's and would not be seduced into that nightmare again, right?  But, if I were to be knitting a largish thing on circular needles it probably wouldn't surprise anyone to know that I found a hole in it last night.  Or that I couldn't for the life of me figure out what had happened and could only assume that I had knit something sideways.  Which is impossible, but it was the best I could come up with.  At least it was the best I could come up with until I realized that the bottom ribbing of the not-sweater was wider on one side than the other.  And figured out that I had set it down, picked it up and then, in full defiance of my years of knitting experience, proceeded to knit backwards for a row.  
It is entirely possible I did this more than once.  It's the same amount of fictional sweater ripping either way, I suppose.  Sort of.  All of it equals all of it when you are ticked off and quite grumpy.  Grumpy feels good to me.  It's familiar.  It has served me well.

Except for the whole cheerleading thing.



trek said...

When I read the title, I sent Neatnik (who was on my lap at the time) upstairs to get changed for bed. Then I called Number Guy over so that I could read the post to him. He says it was very funny. I was having sympathetic thoughts the whole time - you did, of course, read about Laron yesterday...

Knitting Linguist said...

I wonder what would happen if you actually *said* some of those things? I'm trying to imagine the faces of those around you ;) (umm... I hope that the knitting of the Not Sweater goes better as the week progresses)

Anonymous said...

Oh Sheepie, I think it's time to have your groceries delivered directly to your house. Either that or start using your "outside your head" voice while in the store. It won't take long before you become known as that crazed sheep who comes for her pizza and diet mt. dew and will take out anyone who gets in her way. Picture it, whole aisles will clear out as you turn the corner; people will reload their groceries from the checkout counters into their carts to allow you ahead of them in the check out line. It'll be as if you are the only one shopping in the store. A little bit of heaven, right here on earth :-)

Anonymous said...

Note to self: never go grocery shopping with the Sheep. Things Happen.

Omigod. My verification word is spazbvzd. Clearly, that spells Spaz Board, which is what Sheepie might take up side the head(s) of wayward grocery shoppers if she is deflected on her pepperoni pizza and Dew and chip quest.

Mel said...

Well, the good news about the pizzas is that if they do become bacteria-contaminated, the cooking should kill the bugs off nicely. If they're bugs which produce heat stable toxin, it might be a little problematic, though.

Not having your items scanned is likely about as bad as having them scanned twice. My checkout kid wasn't perky, though. I suspect he had been turning cantaloupes into bongs in the back or something.

Melissa said...

You know, the people who work in the grocery stores really do label us. I was in line behind this complete whack job one night at the local market and when said whacker left, the staff started talking about her - and I asked, " so do you have names like that for all the wacko's who come through here?" and they started naming them off. Not to imply that you are wacko, and I assure you that no sheep were mentioned.
It never ceases to blow my mind to come around the corner in Shaws in Portland and see tequila. In the grocery.

Kath said...

Your censoring ability is truly impressive, I commend you for your restraint.

After ten years in my tiny town with it's equally tiny store and limitations I have adopted the philosophy that grocery shopping is not about getting what you want, it's about taking what you can get.

Mia said...

Well let me just say that your frozen pizza and mountain dew sound a whole lot better than my pringles and velveeta cheese incident ::laughing::

And since you're on vacation, for all us other workin' slaves.. TGIF.

catsmum said...

so I'm in good company - I started a jumper [ that's aussie for sweater ] and knit up to the armholes before deciding it was really going to be too tight.
seventeen inches of angora frogged :]
I hadn't even blogged about it or started a ravelry tab for it and there it wasn't.
you would've been proud of me yesterday. I wrote an imaginary email a la sheep to the nice man at the electricity company whose welcome letter managed to misspell both my names - and then I wrote it out for real and pushed send

Donna Lee said...

We call that the Brain Filter in my house. Unfortunately, mine is rather thick. I think things but they don't make it past the filter. I have noticed that there are a lot of people who have rather thin filters.

Beth said...

Maybe you're just grumpy because you're eating soy chips instead of potato chips. :) I do admire your healthy eating, though.

Cursing Mama said...

If it helps, my mother is evidence that the little censor switch degrades with time so at some point you will get the satisfaction of delivering your letters in person.

Karen said...

If I didn't know better I would swear we shop at the same store. Or maybe they are cloning people and shipping them to all the grocery stores in New England. Either way I feel your pain.

ChefSara said...

To the woman wandering aimlessly while talking on her cell phone: I'm 7 months pregnant (i.e. I'm huge). Even in your distracted state I find it hard to believe you did not see me before ramming your cart into my stomach. Perhaps that phone call could wait til *after* you are done shopping.

The Kelly Green Rogue said...

omg! I wonder what it's gonna take for this sweater curse to lift. I hope you don't have to make a cashmere sacrifice to the angry knitting gods! :)