All Grocery's Eve

Crack and fizz. Ah the hope that springs with the popping of a fresh can of Yoohoo. The best chocolate drink since I blended a Hershey bar with genuine, straight from the vein, Smurf blood. (It gives it that smooth, hint of white cocoa aftertaste.) And, my few and faithful readers, venture ye a guess where this chilly non-diary drink hails from? Publix. The same Publix grocery store that shafted me out of a FULL 12 PACK earlier this year (See previous post). And stop your damned snickering, that stuff costs me $5.79 a pack. That’s more than Joan Rivers paid for her last nose, more than Donald Trump paid for his last wig, more than Paula Abdul paid for her last bottle of painkillers, more than Britney Spears has EVER paid for child care, hi-YO! (I’ll be here all night, remember to tip your waitress.)

But, if I might be serious, for just a moment. I know it’s been a long time since my last post. In that time I’ve been rejected by my dream agent (want to know what that one feels like? Try this. Pretend that someone tells you they want to cast you as the lead in the next Transformers flick, then wait two months without hearing anything, then imagine you receive an email saying that instead of casting you in the film, they’ve decided to feed your soul to Dick Cheney’s gremlin grandchildren), coming to terms with my decision to give up writing in pursuit of a law career, and realized I may need to overhaul my novel this summer. Life isn’t like a box of chocolates, folks, it’s like a box of rabid chipmunks, and there’s a hobo with halitosis pressing a gun to your head and forcing you to stick your hand in the box or else he’ll kill you, then take a leak on your brainless corpse. I know, I know, not graphic enough.

I’ve also seen a couple of movies. One good (No Country for Old Men) and one not so good (I Am Legend—though Will Smith was brilliant). I’ll have more on those in another post, hopefully. Mainly, I just wanted to give an update on the Yoohoo crisis, and also provide you with a hand dandy list (I love lists, they require such little skill to write). So without further adieu, here is my list for creeping people out at the grocery store. I field tested these techniques on Christmas Eve and guarantee their success.

The Abbreviated Grocery Creep-Out List

1. When in the Dairy isle, wait for someone to approach the milk. Then, just before they make their selection, reach in and gently caress the gallon they are about to select. After they recoil, look at them longingly and say, “it’s so white. It’s just sooo white.”

2. Open up the ice cream doors. Allow them to frost over. Draw sad faces with tears streaming down the cheeks. Wait until someone passes to close the door. Preferably someone with small children.

3. Ask the butcher if he’ll let you “play with the meat.” When he asks you what you mean, just wink at him, and say, “you know what I mean."

4. Drive your cart into the path of oncoming shoppers. Make sure to repetitively snap your left hand and mumble the words, “revelations, innards, marshmallow, fatted-calf, wiper-fluid, unrepentant, Tom Cruise, pestilence, driveshaft, venereal, and waterslide.”

5. At the checkout line, place your groceries on the conveyor belt without using the mighty plastic separator. Leave just enough room so that there’s a narrow, natural barrier between your items and the person checking out in front of you. You will be AMAZED how frantic people become without the separator.