Posted on 11/29/2015 2:27:50 PM PST by blueunicorn6
Many people have Thansgiving traditions. One of our neighbors has the Thanksgiving tradition of getting drunk and running over our mailbox. Last summer, I cemented in our mailbox and used heavy pipe. Cut his car in half this Thanksgiving like Grandpa using the electric knife on the turkey. When the cops pulled him out of the left half of the car, he was yelling at them that he'd never win the race with a pit crew as slow as them.
One of our family traditions is that I do the Thanksgiving grocery shopping. I feel it's part of the manly tradition of "Bringing home the bacon", or in this case, bringing home the frozen Butterball. Yes, I used to hunt turkeys so we could have fresh meat for the holidays. I had to stop after I mistook the neighbor's chicken for a turkey with a thyroid condition. Really expensive bird that year.
I like to get to the grocery store early. So, I was up at the crack of nine o'clock and drove to the local grocery store.
We've had some snow already this year. Evidently, the grocery store hadn't negotiated a contract with a snow plow service or maybe they just like to sit in the office and drink eggnog and look at the security cameras and watch people fall on their donkey out in the parking lot.
It was slick out.
What is it with little blonde women and big SUVs? There was a little blonde woman in a Cadillac Escalade and another little blonde woman in a Lincoln Navigator. I was between them. They took this as dropping the puck in a game of Human Hockey. The Escalade hit me first and I skidded pretty fast across the lot. The lady in the Navigator must have been a Wayne Gretzky fan because she went to where the human hockey puck was going.
Yes, I know there are plenty of you who have wanted to call me The Human Hockey Puck, but I thought of it first and copyrighted it.
I ricocheted back to the center ice, and the little blonde lady in the Escalade whacked me again and put some English on it and I flew into the cart return and scored a goal for the Escalade.
The two little blonde women dropped their gloves and got into a heck of a fight.
Like a true gentleman, I ran into the store.
This brought me to the shopping cart breeding grounds. I always seem to grab the shopping cart that is in the middle of some heavy love making and won't let go of the next shopping cart.
I'm all about romance, but I find it embarrassing for shopping carts to be doing the nasty right there where little kids can see them.
I finally broke the embrace lamour and proceeded into the store with my somewhat sad and tired shopping cart.
Now, it was time to run The Bread Man Gauntlet. In the olden days, some Indian tribes would make their prisoners run The Gauntlet. The members of the tribe would form two lines and the prisoners would have to run between the lines. The people in the lines had clubs and the object was to brain the prisoner. Sometimes, a prisoner would make it all the way through The Gauntlet, and then they'd make him a Blackjack dealer at the casino or something.
Well, the bread men had formed two lines and dared me to run their gauntlet. I'm not particularly fast, but I am thick-headed, so I accepted the challenge.
I almost made it.
The last guy hit me with some day old French Bread and I dropped like my Son's test scores in his Japanese class. I told him not to take that class. I asked him if he had learned how to say anything in Japanese.
"I can ask where the train station is."
Big deal. He didn't even learn any swear words. And I know those Japanese can swear after I knocked one of them into the swimming pool in Hawaii. I figured he deserved it.
"Tora! Tora! Tora!"
Splash.
After four Mai Tais, I wanted to be an ace. I almost knocked five of them into the pool. The last guy knew Chair-Jitsu or something and gave me a good track with a chair.
But I digress.
I made my way to the checkout stand.
I am a big believer in checkout line etiquette. No cutsies. I'm standing about three people back in the 15 Items Or Less line when this old lady cuts the line with two shopping carts full of Thanksgiving nom noms.
"Hey lady!", I yelled. "Go to the back of the line!"
Well, everybody stopped and looked at me like I had just yelled "Theater!" In a crowded fire house.
The checked picked up her price-scanner gun.
"This is a taser! I will use it on you if you don't pipe down!"
"That's a price scanner", I replied.
You know, there's always that guy who figures out how to combine two things into one. Some guy won the Invention Of The Year Award for combining a price scanner and a taser.
She tased me.
When I came to, I was sitting on my Butterball. I guess most of us do. I was back at the end of the line. I climbed out of my sexually repressed shopping cart and stood in line with people who had evidently failed math and didn't know that 33 items was more than 15.
"They're all cans. They just count as one item."
We're going to my Niece's house next Thanksgiving.
Ah! This is why I keep coming back to FR.
Hey! My Uncle Ed was a saxophonist.
I was just listening to Eddy And The Polka Dots Greatest Hits.
I think that album went “Dirt” or whatever you get for selling three albums.
Isn’t “Tora” a snowblower?
Mine’s a Troy Built.
The Japanese could never say that three times fast.
Toro. They make lawn mowers too.
Here, the little old ladies play butt bump with their carts on the person ahead of them in line as if that gets the line moving any quicker.
Very good. BUMP!
L8r
In our house we thoroughly enjoy the “Team Shopping” Event.
Our leader has the cart and the list.
Assignments are handed out, we all run and get them as the Leader peruses the aisles.
Sometimes she hides quickly after dispatching us.
We return our items, and get the next.
The person who brings the LAST ITEM on the list is the winner!!
Great Fun.
If anyone drops and breaks and item, then we get to yell out, “CLEAN UP on AISLE: (insert applicable aisle number here).
This year’s clean up was on Aisle 14 when Jean encountered a gravity anomaly...most likely a micro-black hole.
The jar of apple sauce was time bent out her hand and splorched to the floor...glorious!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
Merry Christmas to you!
“Like a true gentleman, I ran into the store.”
Excellent writing: clear, readable, funny, smooth and interesting.
To improve: downplay sexual innuendos and highlight inconsistencies.
Yes, little blonds with big trucks lead to silly battles in the parking lot.
I thought the shopping cart metaphor was quite apt.
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