ElmNotch of Sleet
Feb. 8th, 2022 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoSeriously, I can never go to my grocery store again. The minute I walked in there this morning, the guy who was stocking the produce section grinned at me and said "It seems like I just saw you." "Yes, it does seem like only yesterday," I admitted. Though it wasn't. It was at least before the weekend. I skulked away toward the broccoli. Then when I was checking out, I got into a conversation with Tony the singing checker, who asked me if I was retired. Probably because I spend all my time haunting the grocery store. I told the truth and said it was hard to know, because I'm a writer, so how do you know if you're retired? He asked, as people do, what I wrote. "Biographies? Or?" "Science fiction," I said. That usually surprises people. We chatted about that for awhile. Then he noticed the perfectly enormous cucumber. "Yes, it's very large," I said. "You can see how I had to buy it, for I will never see its like again. I hope it's not some kind of mutant cucumber that will turn me into an alien. Because then I'll come back to shop here, and there might be trouble." Tony leaned over and said conspiratorially, "WE SERVE ALL CUSTOMERS." When the checker knows you well enough to assure you that he'll still ring you up if you turn into an alien, it's probably time to seek the anonymity of Costco.
Somewhere in my stash, I have some wacky valentines that I long to use up by sending them to people. But I guess they've decided they're not going. They plan to outlive me and still be found in my files after I die. Each year, they turn up at least once, perhaps in July, or September. And I say to myself, "Oh THERE they are! Now I know! This year, I will most certainly send them!" And then they disappear again, and when February comes, they are nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere for them. Another year shall pass and they will remain inseparably burrowed away somewhere. They've been together for so long that they don't want to be separated and sent away to far-flung destinations.
Somewhere in my stash, I have some wacky valentines that I long to use up by sending them to people. But I guess they've decided they're not going. They plan to outlive me and still be found in my files after I die. Each year, they turn up at least once, perhaps in July, or September. And I say to myself, "Oh THERE they are! Now I know! This year, I will most certainly send them!" And then they disappear again, and when February comes, they are nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere for them. Another year shall pass and they will remain inseparably burrowed away somewhere. They've been together for so long that they don't want to be separated and sent away to far-flung destinations.
costco's not that anonymous eitther
Date: 2022-02-09 07:59 am (UTC)i can hear your humorous valentine cards giggling that they've fooled you *again*. i bet there's a pool on how long they can get away with it.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-09 02:40 pm (UTC)