Stalking the Waiter

Riffing on foods, flavors and methods, that would be telling.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Sometimes it doesn't pay to get out of bed...

Off to the supermarket for the big shopping. You know, the one where you're out of everything, including paper products, vitamins and dishwasher detergent.

Right at the top of my list, if I hadn't, yet again, forgotten to bring it with me, was eggroll and dumpling wrappers. I've read multiple posts recently about making pot stickers, siomai, eggrolls and lumpia, to the point where I'm really itching to do it. They're something I make fairly regularly, at least the smaller, dumpling size ones, but I never replaced my last packet of wrappers. I haven't made or eaten an eggroll in ages, and I'd love to make a big batch to have some for the freezer. Ditto the dumplings. So, of course, I got home and realized that I had totally forgotten them.

Then there was the guy on a mission in the market, who barreled down the aisles at speed and with wanton disregard for the safety of other shoppers. I watched in horror as he rounded a turn, nearly taking out a toddler. But her mom was faster and grabbed the tyke, pulling her to safety. My mother was along, and she was in one of those little drive around carts because her knee is too bad to allow her to do that much walking. I really intended to warn him when she backed up unexpectedly. Honest, I did. But she was too fast for me. Oops. Right up his tail pipe. :G:

And in the checkout line. Why is it that some folks have just never gotten with the cart-goes-in-front-of-you program??? Why do they insist on dragging it behind them. Because then the next person can't get to the conveyor to unload their groceries, and the bagger at the other end has nowhere to put their bagged groceries. Meanwhile they, the backward shopper, stands there, oblivious, staring into space. I had pretty much lost patience by the time I was at the checkout, though, so I asked the woman ahead of me if she couldn't put the cart in front of her so I could unload. Well, she did it, but she gave me a look that said I'd made some kind of obscene suggestion, and she wanted to get far, far away from me. Maybe it's one of those CYA things. :G:

So, I've got my mother's stuff and my stuff, and I'm trying to keep it separated. My mother, in her cart, is behind me in the line. We're nearing the end of her stuff, but there's this one 12-pack of Pepsi, part on the conveyor, part on the end of the counter, and it's just not moving. The woman behind my mother has been glaring at us, and huffing, before returning to her fugue state, for ages. Impatient, wouldn't you guess?

Yet, I, my mother and the checker are all staring at her, watching that lone pack of Pepsi sitting there, while the conveyor whirls away and...she does nothing. I finally said, "Excuse me, but could you give that Pepsi a shove so it will move with the conveyor?" I got a glare, then she flipped a hand as though she were shifting one piece of paper, huffed again and turned away.

I've about had it now. "Don't hurt yourself," I mutter under my breath along with a few choice expletives, but, miracle of miracles, her limp-wristed flutter was just enough to get the Pepsi moving. I look up at the checker, and he's doing his best not to laugh. I apologize, explain that it's one of those days when I can't get out of my own way, or anyone else's, apparently. He grins. "You mean the kind where you tie your shoeslaces, then get up and discover you've tied yourself to the bed post?" Yeah, that was about the size of it.

Then there was the cement truck that seemed to feel left turns had the right of way, and he had no qualms about running over another vehicle who foolishly disagreed with him. I'm very fast on the brake pedal, thank you, or we'd be part of a metal sandwich. And the guy who got impatient at the quarter mile long line for the stop sign, drove his extra large pickup with the greatly overcompensating tires down the wrong side of the road until he was nearly to the front, which is to say right next to me, and puts on his turn signal. Like I'm going to stop and wave him through. Not today. Well, that's not true. I wouldn't have let him cut the line even if I'd been in a good mood. Do not play chicken with B'gina.

Is it any wonder we had soup for dinner? I didn't trust myself with sharp objects. Oh, and I noticed coming home that it's a full moon. Probably explains a lot.


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