Bean has two baskets of goodies in her Cell Block: a basket of toys and a basket of books.
Guess which one she prefers. GO ON, GUESS!
That's right, people. She's got my DNA. Mmm-hmm.
Now if only she'd hold them right-side up.
So I went back to the grocery store today, and Hole Boy was not my bagger. Oh Hole Boy, what great times...er, time...we had.
I had two baggers today, a boy and a girl, who were so busy grabassing with each other that my take and bake pizza was stuffed in my cart vertically. My Take and Bake became Sauce and Toss. All of the toppings slid to one end of the pizza. Grrrr.
I didn't catch it until I got to the car a) because it was hidden by a sea of plastic grocery bags each containing an average of 1.32 items and b) because the Bean was busy auditioning for the role of Typhoon Alarm at the checkout.
*sigh*
Dear Arby’s,
I don’t like you anymore.
Sincerely,
Jen Rodis
p.s.- Your Diet Pepsi tastes weird, too.
Arbys: Welcome to me. May I take your order?
Me: (perusing the menu) What happened to your Market Fresh Roast Beef and Swiss sandwich? It was my favorite. I don’t see it on the menu.
Arbys: We don’t got it no more. We got turkey and swiss.
Me: I see that. Same sandwich, but with turkey instead of roast beef?
Arby’s: Yeah.
Me: Is there some way that you could make that sandwich for me, but put roast beef on it instead?
Arby’s: No.
Me: Is it the price? I know the turkey sandwiches are more expensive. I’ll pay the turkey price, just put roast beef on it for me.
Arby’s: I can’t do that.
Me: But the guy with the meat slicer is like seven feet away from you. I’m pretty sure he can hear us right now. Can’t you just tell him “roast beef instead?”
Arby’s: No.
Me: Why not?
Arby’s: There’s no button on the register for it.
Me: ...
Arby's: (blink, blink)
Me: (Heavy sigh.) Thanks anyway, have a nice day.
Today, at the grocery store, I had a new bag boy. He was a little sketchy looking, what with the oddly-placed facial hair (I don't see the use of a soul patch) and holes in his body where there are not normally holes. This boy, however, is my new best friend. He packed my groceries not just well, not just very well, but effing PERFECTLY.
THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.
You see, I have just enough of the Crazy to actively seek out long grocery lines. I like the belt to be full of the person-before-me's groceries so as to give me enough time to de-basket THE RIGHT WAY.
Now, there are several things in my life that I am not particular about. There do exist areas of my life where it doesn't matter how things are folded, where they are put away, or with what frequency they are cleaned. In some ways, I am a regular heathen. Yup. Lots. Of course, listing them all would take so much time that it would interfere with the time I have allotted for alphabetizing my spice rack and rotating the towel and sheet panty to ensure even use.** Let's just say that there must be at least ONE way in which I am not picky or weird.
Grocery de-basketing, though, is not that one way.
I need to unload the grocery basket such that things are neatly arranged by need for refrigeration, eventual location (upstairs or down), and by squareness of packaging such that there is no usable oxygen between products and I use the least amount of belt space. BE QUIET, THIS IS MY FORM OF CRAZY, AND I'LL DO AS I PLEASE.
My excellent little grocery cube is usually foiled by the bagger, who slops everything in plastic bags willy-nilly.
I DO NOT LIKE WILLY-NILLY.
But THIS bagger, this wonderful, tattooed scofflaw, turned out to be of my ilk. When I got down to pay, my groceries were bagged (in paper bags, because paper bags have right angles and RIGHT ANGLES ARE GOOD. Plastic bags invite the willy and the nilly and I can�t handle that.) $160 of groceries in four, tightly packed, neatly arranged bags. It was beautiful. Boxes were packed flush with other boxes and stacked up to the top rim of the bag, toiletries were neatly arranged, the refrigerated stuff was packed with raw meats on the bottom and cooked things on top (because - eww - if it's the other way around). Even the produce was packed nicely and neatly; the bananas lined up parallel to the green onions.
I almost kissed him. However, I probably would have been jabbed by some bit of metal poking from his face, so I refrained and offered a genuine, one-crazy-to-another thank you.
I almost took a picture of them. Because that? That will never happen again. Those perfectly packed grocery bags will have to live on in my memory. Because a thing of beauty is a joy forever.
**I'm sorry to say that I'm not kidding. The spice cabinet is alphabetized and, yes, I do know the last time that I used the sheets with the clouds on them.
Thanks for all of your suggestions for joint activities. We worked on (and I finished) a really hard jigsaw puzzle, I started playing Dim�s silly World of Warcraft computer game with him (something that tickles him greatly � he thinks that I enjoy it more than I do), and we went to see Athena sing in UNLV�s production of La Boheme. (My uneducated review: the singing was wonderful, the orchestra was passable, and the sets stunk.)
I keep trying to convince Dim to take advantage of this wonderful weather and go to the park to play badminton or something.
I also want to change the design of my blog again. However, I need to take advantage of a friend�s talent to make that happen, and I feel bad about taking advantage of a friend�s talent to make that happen.
Also, I wish my comments worked, seeing as they haven�t worked for almost two years now. Moveable type has had several updates available since this version was used for this blog, but I�m told that it�s not a priority. For two years. Grrrrrrrrr.
Funny moment of the weekend: Dim waggling a toothbrush at Bean to get her to walk to him. Funnier moment: It worked.
Dim and I want new hobbies. To do together. That don't involve wiping the feces off the backside of someone who eats Post-Its all day if you let her.
So how about it? Leave suggestions in the comments. They need to be husband-friendly (so collecting dildoes is OUT - Kat) and preferably able to be worked on indoors, while a baby is sleeping.
I thought that we could cook dinners together. As much as I love my husband, he can't cook to save his life. But he can be taught.
What else can you think of?