Naturally it started with a blow to the head. I was sitting at the computer and I heard all this thumping noise out in the kitchen. It turned out to be the cat version of “American Gladiator” with Guardcat battling to the death with something. Okay I kinda knew what it was going to be. Here’s a clue:
Because suddenly she came running into the living room. She was so butch initially like “I got a MOFO mouse in my mouth!!!! Look mommy!!!! (suddenly nervous). Ummm. Where should I put this thing? Errr…Its kinda wiggling and taste like ass!”
Well, actually that was all muffled. You know…the mouse in her mouth thing. Naturally, I yelled at her. “Guardcat!!! Don’t kill it!! Its so cute!!! Wait! Let me get my camera!!!” Which of course became her cue to immediately drop it. Which caused us all to stop momentarily and look at each other…as if in total disbelief, like hey look, three friends enjoying an evening together listening to “Spring Awakening”.
But then reality slammed back into place as the mouse took off into the bathroom, where they all go, with Guardcat in hot pursuit, running around the back of the cat box and then coming out the front, looking up at both of us, at which time it did the totally unthinkable. Are you ready?
It ran up over the top of my foot!
And then I yelled to Guardcat, “Protect me, you idiot!!” So she chased him around the bathroom until it ran back into my linen closet and yes, disappeared into the secret mouse infinity door. What’s that? That’s where all the mice that run into the linen closet disappear to. Honest to god. They just disappear.
So I got down on my knees and pulled everything out like I always do, which is when I received the blow to the head. It just happened. A bag with beauty supplies (a large bottle of Yardley hand cream, soap, scrubby thing) just inexplicably threw itself off the top shelf and whacked me in the head.
Its amazing how strong those mice are once they’re pressed into action, the little bastards.
Of course, by now, Guardcat was in on the bed, washing her paws, totally oblivious that my life was in danger. I’ll remember that the next time I’m in the cat food aisle, toots.
Anways, I saw “A” on Tuesday and he was in a much better mood and we discussed another plan of action finally. I told him how addicted I’ve become to my computer and how I don’t leave my house much and he wants me to go to 7 meetings (or outings) a week. Awk! I did get him down to 5, especially since its winter and we’ve been getting hammered with a lot of snow and ice the last couple of days. But gah, people have been such assholes, of late.
Take today for instance, when I went down to the Yuppie Grocery Store. Have I ever mentioned that I have like a total crush on the Yuppie Grocery Store? Yes, I realize that our romance is a bit improbable. I’m a 49 year old woman and my love interest is a 30,000 sq. foot grocery store, but I go there almost every day. I glance at it lovingly when I drive by. It feeds me. I have lunch with it. Its available to me, no questions asked, 24 hours a day! What’s not to love?
I was feeling
very a little depressed today however, so I decided to go visit Weggie’s and have some Chinese food. But I did something new today. Instead of eating in the cafe part where Alec Baldwin midget types hang out, I brought my food out to the pseudo-Starbucks cafe area with the tall tables and trendy wooden stools. I had seen a cute guy out there and since I’m now walking straighter and possibly looking hotter or “like a woman” as Charlemagne aptly noticed last night (gee thanks!!), I thought I’d sit there.
Big mistake. Do you know how many idiots bumped into my table or chair either with their big ass bodies or their big ass carts? A lot. I even had some lady come up behind me and say “Excuuuuuuse me” to the back of my chair. Like WTF? Is my chair suppose to move for her? Get a life, Pilate-breath!
When I finished lunch, I did my grocery shopping, since I (*whispering*) didn’t want Weggie’s to think I was just there because I have a crush on them… and went up to the register to get my stuff. For like the 4 millionth time in the history of the world, the cashier was confused by the concept of food stamps and had to call a manager over. Blah, blah, blah. Problem solved. Splendid-oooooo!!
So I get home, walking through the impossibly frigid temperatures, almost falling and cracking my head open on all the poorly maintained icy sidewalks at Crazy Hilton, only to realize….FUCK…one of my bags of groceries was missing! Was I angry? Is the German Pope Guy Catholic? And it was the bag with my meat in it too! The most expensive thing I buy. Plus I had a splitting headache. I guess it was all that MSG from the Chinese food. Or possibly the recurring head injuries from falling objects in my apartment.
So I made my way back down the icy sidewalks to my car. Drove back to Weggie’s thinking perhaps I left the package in the bottom half of my cart. But no, said the Cart Boys. I then headed into the Customer Service Desk.
Now this store is absolutely known for their superior customer service. A strawberry has a piece of lint on it and they give you a $10 gift card. But this certainly wasn’t evident in the next ten minutes.
I tell Customer Service dweeb #1 and #2 about my dilemma. My missing meat (you can insert your own joke here). They check a little mini-fridge behind the counter. Nope. No meat. Them: “Do you have a receipt?” Me: “No. I just came directly back. Doesn’t the fact that I told you exactly what kind of meat I had and how much they cost tell you something?” Them: “Drrr?” (staring off into space). They then asked C.S. Dweeb #3 if she has seen my meat (again, feel free to insert a joke here). Her: “No”. C.S. Dweeb # 2: “So you don’t have a receipt with you then?” Me: “No.” C.S. Dweeb #1: “What register were you at?” Me looking down at 470 registers. “Ummm? I don’t know, but I would know the cashier. She was confused by food stamps.” The dweebs immediately looked at each other suspiciously at the mention of the “F” word. Food stamps. Gasp!! This woman is definitely scamming us. Call security….quick!!!
I again said I would know the cashier if I saw her and then the rather lackadaisical, customer service Dweeb #1 f.i.n.a.l.l.y came out from behind the counter and rather lazily followed me down the row of registers, like oh bother!! I’d so rather be chatting with Jodie about “Days of our Lives!” And when we spotted her, it was immediately apparent that she knew she had fucked up. She said “I tried to catch you but you walked out of the store so fast!!”
Although the correct chain of events was somewhat closer to this:
witty walks away from the dumb cashier and saunters over to the lottery ticket machine 12 feet from her register and stands there thinking Hmmm? Which ticket should I buy for a dollar? Santa Dollars? Oh no, I’ll never win with anything with the word Santa in it. Well, I never win anything anyways, so I might as well throw away my money somehow!” And then I put my dollar into the machine, got the ticket, walked 1 foot over to the lottery stand, scratched off the ticket, quietly said, “why do I always lose?”And then slowly sauntered towards the door since I had a really blinding headache.
But I guess in the cashier’s mind, I was hurtling out of the doors at the speed of light. I mean I can see how those two scenarios could get confused.
So she said she had sent my bag of groceries over to the…can you guess? The Customer Service Desk!! Well how do you like that!! Who saw that coming? That was like a McGuffin in a Hitchcock movie!! So me and C.S. “I don’t care, leave me alone” Dweeb #1 walked back to the customer service desk and there was my bag of perishable groceries (cheese, meat, yogurt) languishing and possibly oozing and growing e Coli bateria up on the counter. I guess they were like totally fooled by the loaf of bread on top of the meat (again, insert your joke here) and never thought to look at any additional stray bags that were laying around on the counter. So the guy pushed the bag towards me. Did he say he was sorry? Nope. Should he have? Yes, I think so. Even to me a lowly Food Stamptopian.
So I’m a little mad at my “boyfriend” Weggie’s right now. And as far as getting out in public 5 times a week. Well, that’s going to be tough one. The one saving grace of the afternoon was driving into the parking lot behind a car with a giant operational menorah strapped to the roof. Ha ha ha.
I figured I better show a picture of the giant menorah strapped to the roof of a car, since who would believe a woman who was whacked in the head by a bag of beauty supplies pushed off a shelf by an evil malevolent mouse.