Another Year Older part II

Category: dribblings

The second way I can tell I’m getting older is that one of our local grocery stores has closed forever. It was my preferred grocery store. I avoided all others like the smug jerks they are. But now, NOW, I am forced to do my grocery shopping at The Smug Grocery Store (or I could drive 10 miles to ALDI, which is like the yard sale of grocery stores. Good deals, yes, but I mean, I don’t have time to trip around that maze. Boxes all over? Are they constantly restocking? GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, ALDI.)

The Smug Grocery Store is the WORST.  The layout of the store is like that maze at the beginning of The Labyrinth with the tricky walls that keep moving? Everything in it is $1 – $2 more expensive than any other store that exists. You gotta have one of their CARDS to get the discounts. I hate that so much. Their produce section isn’t worth a single damn. They have one bag of apples, some shitty grapes and that’s it. God help you if you wanted a variety of produce choices.

Three weeks ago my coworker went to TSGS and this happened. This is all TRUE, BTdubs.

My coworker goes to the deli counter and asks the lady for a pound of fried catfish and an extra piece on top. Without moving the lady says, “Well, that’s gonna be like, $8.99.”

“Oh, did the price go up? It was $5.99 last week.”

“Oh,” the lady replies, “I don’t know. Let me check.”

Well that’s a red flag. The lady is just making up prices of things.

“No, you’re right it’s still $5.99 a pound.”

“Okay great, I’ll take a pound and an extra piece.”

“Well, okay. But. I’ll have to give you all small pieces.”

“Okay. Wait, no. Why do you have to give me all small pieces?”

“Cos if I give you the bigger pieces the pound will weigh more.”

It is at this point in the story that I WOULD HAVE LEFT THE STORE AND WANDERED STRAIGHT TO THE HIGHWAY IN HOPES OF BEING CLOBBERED TO DEATH BY A MOVING VEHICLE. My coworker took the high road and tried to explain to the lady that a pound will always be a pound no matter what size the pieces, and could she please get a pound of catfish with an extra piece on top? The lady boxed up roughly a million tiny pieces of catfish and gave it to my coworker who took the box, finished her shopping, and drove home. When she got home she opened the box of fish and noticed that the price was $5.40. Meaning the lady DID NOT EVEN give her one pound of catfish.

Last week my coworker goes in again to get more catfish. I said, “You tried it again?”

“You won’t believe what happened this time.”

“No, I will believe it. After “the pound will weigh more” I’ll believe ANYTHING you say about TSGS and it’s awfulness. What I DON’T believe is that you went back again.”

“So this time I thought I’d make it easier on the deli lady.”

“Like how? You got a job at the deli and boxed up your own fish?”

“No. Besides this time there was a different lady. I told her I wanted 5 pieces of catfish.”

“Oh. I see. Take the “tricky” weight out of the equation.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, how did that go?”

“So I says to her I want 5 pieces of fish and she gets the tongs and picks up a piece of fish, like medium big in size, and I tell her that I want them to be around that size.”

“Oh. Well, that actually sounds like a good plan.”

“Yeah, so I get home and open the box and there’s only 4 pieces of fish in it.”

“No WAY.”

“Way.”

“Oh my gosh. Hey, did I tell you about Mumbles the Butcher?”

“No.”

“Well I took dad to TSGS, Dad by the way, hates that store more than I do.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.”

“It is. You think I’m bad? He’s the worst. Anyway, he wanted some ground beef and there was a sale going on, $1.99 a pound. So we get to the meat counter and there’s a butcher guy there putting out TONS of some kind of “fancy” ground beef that was $4.99 a pound. So dad says to him, “Hey, where’s the $1.99 ground beef at?” the guy looks at dad and mumbles something, I’m not sure if he was mumbling to dad or to the possible myriad voices in his head, but he sets down the last of the beef and goes back to the butcher room and comes back out 5 seconds later with 7 more packs of the $4.99 beef and then he won’t look at us. Like, he never acknowledges us after that.”

“What?! What did your dad do?”

“He yelled, “HEY PAL, THANKS FOR NOTHING.” And we left without the meat. Dad was livid.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, next time you want catfish, take my dad with you. It’ll be hilarious.”

 

So. Here’s the thing. I realize that the fact that I complain at LEAST every day about The Smug Grocery Store means that I am officially an old woman.  Like, a 300 year-old woman.

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