Wednesday, August 28, 2019

My Grocery Store Check Out Line ROAD RAGE!!




It was a quiet day in the grocery store.  People were seen picking up items they needed for current and future meals. I secured a few things in anticipation of my daughter’s visit over Labor Day weekend.  As I approached the check out line section, I handily avoided my strong desire to grab the cheddar drenched popcorn and barely made it past the candy bars whose wrappers were waving at me.  I had my cloth grocery bag ready to accept the nutritious items in my cart and began searching for the shortest checkout line.  I could have tried standing and waiting for self check out.  But I had already checked myself out in the mirror in the morning and felt two times in one day was overkill.

I started to engage check out line #4 but saw that #1 had only 2 people and the last person in line only had one item.  Without signaling, I used my best pickleball moves and scooted into line #1.  Just as I reached the end of the conveyor belt and was ready to place my items on it, the husband of the woman in front of me with one item showed up with full cart in tow.  I wanted to call “no cutsies”, but thought better of it as I am polite.  After removing said items from his cart plus the one item the wife had, he proceeded to keep the empty cart behind him rather in the preferred front position, preventing me from putting my items on the belt.  I took this to be a rather aggressive move, but being the non-confrontational person that I am (along with being polite is a great combo!), I simply reached forward and lightly released my items air born so as to land on the belt and prepare me to be ready for checkout when my time came.  

Without looking backward, “husband” aggressively shoved my items back almost pushing them off the belt.  So much for being polite and non confrontational.  This was grocery store road rage time.  I would have rolled up my sleeves, but I was wearing a short sleeved shirt.  I thought through my strategy of what I could do to retaliate.  I could whip out a banana but that wouldn’t scare him as I only bought over ripe ones for banana muffins.  I could pummel him with the frozen blintzes I bought, but then I might be arrested for assault with a frozen weapon.  I could sushi him to the ground, but then I wouldn’t have food for dinner.  So, instead, I puffed out my chest (and if you have recently seen my chest it really doesn’t make a big impression.  I know that because I did the self check in the morning), took a deep breath and thought nasty things to say….but didn’t say them.  You see, I am an avid Judge Judy watcher and I know that any rage at any time can turn back on you.  So, I gave him my evil eye (but his back was to me so he didn’t see it), but it did scare a few people in self check out #1 & 2 (or perhaps it was my puffed out chest that scared them).  The moral of the story?  Don't buy over ripe bananas!

Saturday, April 27, 2019

IS NETFLIX RUINING MY SEX LIFE




I recently read that a survey showed that Netflix is negatively affecting the sex life of its viewers.  It seems that men and women prefer streaming to sex.

I learned about sex in the Fifties from Lucy and Ricky Ricardo.  Sex happens in separate twin beds.  Thus, why it took me so long to find a husband that could fit into my mine.  Once that was accomplished, things went along pretty well for 32 years.  The beds got larger and we streamed 2 daughters. Then 8 years ago I found myself alone and left to my own devices.  I took that to mean electronic devices.  My mix master was too dangerous, my electric knife was a no go, my Keurig was a possibility, and my belt sander was a bit too rough.  So I did what any normal single woman would do…I tried using the vibrating feature on my cell phone…without much success.

Thankfully, someone understood my dilemma and created Netflix.  Now, not only is Netflix NOT ruining my sex life, it is actually my “go to” source for my sex life, along with HBO, The Comedy Channel and National Geographic.  So let me say thank you to all those streaming stations that allow me to feel like a vital woman again.  (And don’t get me started on the “streaming” feature.  My bladder streams all night long).

Forget John Boy.  Give me John Snow!  Bye, bye Lucy.  Hello “Sex Education”  (a UK based Netflix series starring Gillian Anderson).  I still love my twin bed and until something changes, me and my remote control are  sublimely happy together.