Sunday, May 1, 2016

Picking Up Rolls at Food Lion

I know I told Dave I’d pick up rolls for dinner on my way home from the theatre, but I couldn’t do it.  And he was being unreasonable.

“You don’t get it,” I said, “I have Dead Ancestor makeup on!”

“So what!  It’s Food Lion.”
“I look like a zombie!”

He didn’t care.  “You’re driving right past it.”

I glanced at myself in the rear view mirror. “There’s no way!  I’ll scare away the customers.”

“Nobody will be in Food Lion this time of day."  

Famous last words.  I cursed him as I turned into the Food Lion parking lot.  That was jammed with cars. Nobody will be in Food Lion.  Right.

I found a spot and raced into the store.

Where I ran head on into a Mom with a little boy.  The kid took one look at me and buried his head in his mother.  “No Caleb,” I heard her say, “Monsters aren’t real.  She’s just pretend.”

I put my head down, making a beeline for the bakery department, where I saw one of my neighbors.  Luckily, she didn’t see me.  Dodged that bullet.  I grabbed the rolls and ran toward the checkout lanes which were overflowing with people.

Crap!  There was that lady from church.  I did u-turn, took a detour through the cereal aisle and finally found my way back to the front of the store.

I stepped in line behind a woman with about 50 items in her cart.  “Oh my God!” she said when she looked at me.   “What happened to you?”

“It’s Addams Family makeup,” I explained. “I’m a dead ancestor.”

“Yes you are,” she said.  Then added, “You can get in front of me in line.”

I placed my rolls on the conveyor belt and the teenage Food Lion worker, let’s call him “Denzel”, looked at me and said, “How are you?” as he proceeded to scan my rolls.

Not the reaction I was expecting.

“Well, to be honest, I’m not feeling very well,” I said, and giggled under my breath.

Denzel said, “$2.49.”

Damn Denzel!  I deserved a reaction and he was giving me nothing.

I slid my credit card into the reader and continued. “I mean, I’m really feeling sick.”

Denzel put my rolls into a bag, nonplussed.

“Really, really sick.”

Denzel handed me my bag.  "Have a good day."

But I wasn't done. “In fact I think I died last week.”  

"Yes, m'aam," was all he could come up with.

I was just about to ask him if he could give me a ride to my car in a grocery cart when I came to my senses.

I had to get home with my rolls.  

I had a husband to scare.

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