Apparently, I’m a ninja

I hate grocery shopping. I especially hate grocery shopping on Wednesday, which is senior citizen discount day. Or, as my mother likes to call it, Old People Day. (Nevermind that she qualifies for the discount herself… it’s funny to listen to her bitch about all the old people in the store.)

Now I will admit, I am a fairly large-sized girl. Southwest Airlines would probably make me buy two seats if I ever deigned to fly with them. I am not graceful. You can see me coming. But apparently, on Old People Day, I am ninja. I could nimbly walk behind someone, slit their throat and slip out without being seen. Because no one seems to be able to see me when I shop.

Let me set up the scene for you:

An elderly gentleman and a woman I presume is his wife are in the canned vegetable aisle. At the end of this aisle is the canned tuna which I need. I, however, am at the opposite end, separated from the tuna by the couple debating the merits of store- vs. name-brand green beans.  In the middle of the freakin’ aisle.

I walk right up to them. “Excuse me.” They do not move. “Excuse me,” I say a little louder, thinking, OK, they’re old, maybe they’re hard of hearing, even though neither one of them is speaking loudly. Nada. I try to push past them, saying, “Excuse me,” once again. No dice. I can’t really squeeze by, unless I want to knock Chef Boyardee off the opposite shelf with my breasts. Which would be way embarrassing.

This is the point where I realize I could probably give them both a new smile, Joker-style, and neither one would notice. Since I apparently don’t exist to Old People on Old People Day.

Finally I gave up and just went down the next aisle and back up to find that Kroger was out of my tuna. *sigh*

At least the night wasn’t a total loss. I did find my first-ever submission to Cake Wrecks in the bakery department.

Mr. Hankey, the St. Patty's Poo

Doesn’t that just look yummy?

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