The grocery store was packed with hordes of elephants wearing big gray sweaters and giraffes with ugly shoes.
My mom had her list handy in order to get in and out of the store, she had jotted down that her list would be no more than $40 bucks, but as we grazed through the aisles we kept piling up the cart with more and more stuff that I knew was not necessary to make this "perfect" thanksgiving. Yet, this is what she wanted. I wish I was still the little kid who is actually able to sit in the cart but instead I have to place the big heavy jugs in place of my once cherished throne.
I pushed the cart and imagined I was driving on a race track. I know when I get the chance to finally drive I will be an excellent driver because I mean I have been playing race car video games forever and that must be accounted for some credit. Not to mention that I'm not too shabby at wii mario cart either. So, in my personal novel that I am conjuring up in my mind this experience would be underlined and noted as foreshadowing. Foreshadowing to a bright future with automobiles and butlers.
Speaking of butlers, I watched parent trap today and if I ever met a girl who looked exactly like me, my reaction would definitely not be that controlled as it was of Lindsey Lohan's. I'm pretty sure I would scream, kick her, then run away shouting IMPOSTOR.
I am not an impostor, or I hope I'm not, nor is my faith crooked. It may show some signs of rustiness, but we are all tin men sometimes. Actually, I question whether my heart is still inside my body..but that's a whole other story.
Anyway, back to the grocery store, I grew rather frustrated when I saw people pushing carts that looked like a clothes store. Everything stacked so neatly that even the apple sauce fit in with the bananas. Grocery shopping was truly an art when it came to putting the items in the cart. I was so tempted to pull out the cereal box from the bottom of the stack and shout JENGA! Now that would be funny. But, what really bothered me was the fact that they are going to check out their items and mess up their perfect structure.
Which reminds me, do they still ask for paper or plastic? Because in paper bags the bagger usually does a perfect job of stacking, but when it comes to plastic they just throw the stuff in. I would hate to have the job of bagging for 2 reasons.
1. You get the job title of Bagger. Almost like beggar or hagger or even shagger. All words that should not be associated with your pay check.
2. If people were rude to me I would put the soda on top of eggs or the bleach next to bananas. and then i would get fired.
But, being a bagger actually might prove to be interesting. I mean you are the person who gets to see all the items this person is buying. The lonely bachelor with his frozen foods that you are tempted to leave your number. Or how about the old woman who buys more cat food than she does food for herself. In some way you are a private detective or a psychologist, and now I think about it I wouldn't mind being the bag girl.
Fitzwilliam Darcy has to go get neutered tomorrow. poor kitty.
My sister is watching Pride and Prejudice right now and Mr. Darcy is truly the most brilliant man ever to walk the earth. I curse this movie as it has put false hopes into a naive lovers heart.
p.s. you have carved your name permanently on my heart.