Jacob, The Smithfield Man and Angry Hippies

I don't even know where to start.

Our trip to the grocery store was comical. The fun began when I stopped at the deli to pick up some sandwich meat. The vertically challenged deli employee couldn't reach the front of the cabinet, so she walked around, lifting it open from the front. She needed both of her wee little arms to wrestle the big hunk o'meat, so... being the innovative mountain dwelling woman that she was, she delicately balanced the five by three foot section of double glass (which I assume was pretty darn heavy) on her wee little head as she leaned in to fetch the ham.

It was REALLY hard not to laugh.

Then there was the lady in the scooter chair. Blonde and petite, weighing all of about 87lbs., she was being followed by her four children. The eldest, Jacob (we all knew his name from the constant screaming of the other rugrats) pushed the shopping cart and did his best to keep his three little sisters from being abducted by strangers.

Okay, not really. He looked like he was ready to sell them all to the highest bidder.

The littlest one found the doughnut display case and while she reached to grab herself one, her siblings disappeared around the corner, following their mother. A tender hearted bakery employee saw her straining for a freebie and lifted her up to get one.

What's one doughnut right?

The little girl was so over come with excitement, that she ran SCREAMING at the top of her lungs, "I GOT A DOUGHNUT! I GOT A DOUGHNUT!" as she disappeared around the corner.

A millisecond lapsed before a stampede of little feet rounded the corner, headed for the bakery counter, led by none other than Jacob, to the sound of more delighted screams of, "I WANT A DOUGHNUT! I WANT A DOUGHNUT!"

The bakery guy looked really nervous.

No good deed goes unpunished right?

And the mother of this little brood? She just kept right on trucking up the aisle, towards the meat counter, totally oblivious to it all. It's enough to make you wanna forget your manners and give perfect strangers a firm talking to... but I exercised self control and kept my pie hole shut.

Because it was Saturday, the grocery store was a dangerous place to be. Lots of unsupervised rugrats. Lots of bonafied redneck/hillbilly types in camo who watch too much NASCAR. This one guy.. oh. my. gawd. He walked by and his odor nearly knocked me sideways. It wasn't a "body" smell, nor was it really an unpleasant odor, under the right circumstances.

Dude wreaked of smoked ham. I mean like... I bet he had "Smithfield" stamped across his left ass cheek. I've never smelled anything like it before in my life. The Amazon insisted that the odor was the combination of stale cigarette smoke and motor oil creating a body odor resembling Bacon Bits.

I beg to differ.

Anywho.. I was nearly taken down by crazed hippies who couldn't get to the Fiji water fast enough when I stopped in the aisle to go through my coupons. Why do they always seem so angry? Is it all that roughage in their diet making them like.. you know.. irritable? I thought the nature loving, organic crowd was supposed to be all peace loving and happy? Maybe it's just Hee-Haw County hippies. Maybe they got a whiff of the Smithfield man. I dunno. I'm just thankful I don't have to worry about shopping again for a while now.

I'd better get to work. Bossman has been wearing a trench in the hallway, sighing heavily and huffin' and puffin' like the Big Bad Wolf.

Ya'll have a great Monday.

Later Taters!