:: July 18, 2004
My parents got a new puppy. They're deciding between the names Oprah and Ethyl. FREAK'N CUTE
If you hate dog pictures on weblogs, how about a junebug larva instead? ::
:: July 14, 2004
One of the downsides to our house, which we moved into a year ago this week, is that it is not near a good supermarket. By good I mean that it has all of the following:
- edible produce
- non-hippie cereals
- toilet paper, and Suave shampoo
- all at a low low price!
We have a fancy pants Central Market within walking distance, but it is unacceptable considering the last three criteria. We also have a Randalls right up the street, but it fails to provide low low prices and edible produce. Plus, the whole "Randalls Card" thing where they track your purchases for undoubtedly diabolical reasons is suspicious.
We are starting to change our mind about Randalls though. For some reason, it attracts a whole different crowd than the middle-America H-E-B and the upper-America Central Market. And it's not the melting-pot America that the very cool but faraway Fiesta Mart draws either. Randalls is FREAKY TEXAS AMERICA, and for that reason we've begun to frequent the place, not unwillingly. Every single time we go there, without fail, we have some weird encounter, that if not delightful are at least world-view shaking. In the past they have involved
- a shopper with severe Tourette's syndrome (which I know is not appropriate to classify as freaky America, but it's interesting that the only place I've ever really encountered it was there)
- many instances of people muttering under their breath
- people sharing their Lean Cuisine preferences at length with me
- fender benders in the (usually quite empty) parking lot
- baggers telling me out of the blue that a transient was killed last night on the frontage road right in front of this very store
- and in general, strange looking people in line in front of me with strange purchases
Like today. Today I went to fetch some "Gourmayo" to complement a recent giant artichoke acquisition, some Blue Bell Ice Cream (buy one get one free with your Randalls Card, hot diggety!), and some Shiner beer. I went to check out, and the checkout lady looked chagrined. She muttered something about aisle twelve. I asked how she was doing, in a small talky way. She said,
"Oh ... well. You know. It's ... " (shakes her head, trails off)
Me: "Rough day, huh?" (thinking her current troubles were limited to aisle 12)
Her: "Yeah, I'm not supposed to say."
Me: (thinking that not talking shit about her coworkers is probably a good call)
Her: "I'm trying to get custody of my kid."
Me: ... !
Her: "Well, I had custody, but now my husband won't give her back."
Me: "uh ... wow. That's awful. I'm sorry."
Her: "Well Ms. Kmel, you saved $3.47 today by using your Randall's card."
Me: "Great!" (Sympathetic but uncomfortable smile)
Her: "Have a nice day."
Me: "Um. OK. Good luck?"
Hopefully these encounters don't stop just because I've decided to document them for posterity. ::
:: July 4, 2004
Hey patriots! Listen to the George W. Bush Singers. I especially like Deep Thoughts Part I. ::
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