Last weekend, Mike came over and brought the most amazing cheese ever. A cheese so delicious, even the most dedicated cheese-hating Finn would consider packing up and moving to Sweden just to have a taste. I’m going to tell you all about it. Some other time.
That’s right. I’m not going to write about the most amazing cheese ever today. Why? Because I went to the grocery store today, that’s why. This is what I looked like when I went to the grocery store today.
Ok, so I’m not quite Quasimodo, but let’s face it, nobody was going to be asking if I’d like to be on the cover of Vogue. In any case, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. When I got to the checkout, I noticed that my bag boy was a Justin Bieber wannabe. Except with better hair, worse skin and riddled with teenage angst and attitude. He started stuffing things into the bags. At one point, I suggested that maybe it would be a good idea NOT to put the 4 litre jug of vinegar on top of the strawberries. He huffed. In my head, I jabbed my car keys into his jugular. In real life, I told him to put the strawberries in another bag. He huffed, and put the strawberries in another bag. When he was done, he looked at me expectantly. I put the bags into my cart and walked out without giving him a tip.
Needless to say, I left the store less than chipper. I put the bags in my car and turned to bring the shopping cart back to the grocery store. Because of all the snow, it was a bit of a challenge getting to the sidewalk area where all the carts are in front of the store. Which just added to my good mood. Then I couldn’t get the damn thing up on the sidewalk. As I struggled to get the cart up onto the curb, people walked past me basically ignoring my plight. The curses I was muttering under my breath got a little louder with every person who walked by me. Then suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed the front of my cart and lifted it up onto the sidewalk.
I looked up to see a pretty raggedy looking man standing in front of me. I thanked him for his help and he smiled at me, displaying all 3 of his teeth. He told me I was pretty. He told me I had pretty eyes. I thanked him again and started to walk back to my car. He called to me “Mademoiselle!” I turned back. “With everything the good Lord gave you, he forgot one thing.” “Really?” I said. “What would that be?”
“My phone number” he replied, and told me his name was Maurice. He grinned at me again. I couldn’t help but laugh. I told him it was, indeed, a grave oversight on the part of God. He told me he was on his way to get something to eat, but he was a little short. I reached into my pocket and handed him a few dollars in change. The change I would have given to the bag boy if he hadn’t been such a twit. I wished him “Bon Appetit” and turned back to my car. I waved to him as I got in and he called out one last thing “Drive carefully, Mademoiselle! It’s very slippery out.”
Even though I know he’ll never read this, thank you, Maurice, for making my day a little better.