I swear the stupid was ubiquitous yesterday. I don't know what it is about Mondays, other than the fact that most of us stay up way too late on the weekends and really are sleep deprived to the point of stupid, come Monday mornin'. But yesterday, for some reason, it was especially bad.
Everywhere I turned, people were just... fucking up. And badly. In traffic. In the grocery store. In my own house, even.
Oh wait! That last one was me! Let's just... blow past that one. It's... not important!
Of that list, the worst offender by far, was the woman who actually ran me over with her shopping cart. I guess that's what I get for taking too long to look for yellow mustard, and the right pickles... which oddly enough, I never found either of, because the store was out of both for some reason. I have never seen that before. Every other kind of mustard but yellow. Every. Other. Kind. Really? Seriously? You are Winco, for fuck's sake! How could you not have the most ordinary condiment known to mankind? I walk into your store, and I automatically think: Milquetoast. Yes. Yes, I do.
And well? Sometimes I do like mustard on my milquetoast. People have been known to enjoy stranger things. For instance? What the hell is up with chicken and waffles? Thinking it was probably brought about by someone who was ridiculously pregnant at the time, and her man thought to himself... "Hm. The lady's onto something here."
But back to Winco. Don't get me wrong. It's a fine place to shop for most things, but it offers few frills.
Mr. Hed really looks forward to Winco day, because he loves the fried fruit pies that he finds in a bag on his basement office chair when he comes home from work after a hard day of slaving for his slave-driving bosses.
He's easy to please. I like that in a man. I... do what I can.
As for the pies, I craved those once in my life. Can ya guess when? Why, yes! It happened to be when I was pregnant with my first kid. And even then, it lasted about 5 minutes before I realized how disgusting those things are, and never wanted to see one again. Why do people like those things? See? Pregnancy cravings are not always something the rest of the world should embrace. Those gross pies? No exception.
Anyway, my thought process basically ran the way it read before my rant about those gross pies that Mr. Hed loves so much. I was scratching my head when I felt it on the side of my ankle, and into my Achilles tendon. It wasn't pain. It was... akin to being electrocuted, then dropped onto the floor by a Zamboni with a loose wire somewhere. I heard myself say: "Ay, whada'fuuuuu..." and then I was on the floor.
I look up, and there is a shopping cart in my face. The woman who had been pushing it was apparently leaning on the handles, and texting with her smart phone, completely oblivious to her surroundings. She jumped from her texting post at the wheel of her death cab, and began to apologize profusely: "OH MY GOD!!! I'm so sorry! I can't believe I did that! Wow, I'm stupid! I'm so sorry! Are you OK?"
"Grryyyes..."
By this time, I get back up to prove that I am, and Microsqueak sighs with relief. She was sitting in the main part of our cart, playing with her leapster, and didn't really notice what was going on until the woman started freaking out with concern.
"Are you sure? That looked really bad. You kind of flew away when I hit you."
"Yes, I can assure you I've been through worse. I'm just glad there aren't any employees around. I hate how they completely freak out and blow stuff like this out of proportion. I'll be fine."
"K," she said, with a look that hearkened what I can only guess was a combination of disbelief, guilt, and... more disbelief.
"Well, I've got to get going. Need to pick my big kid up from school in a bit." I didn't really know what else to say, because she was just sort of standing there, awkwardly gawking, and not knowing how to end the encounter.
She finally nodded, "K. Sorry again."
"No worries..."
Seriously. Wow. That is a new one for me. I've come close to being hit by cars when people were texting while driving, and not really paying attention, but I guess I now have a new place to be more than aware of my periphery.
In summation: Winco can be a dangerous place. There is your public service announcement from me.
-H
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