After cracking open the cupboards for the the fourteenth time this afternoon, I decided that the Old Mother Hubbard routine didn't work for me and decided to make a quick jaunt to the supermarket. I've lived here for over twenty years but it never gets any more palatable. Tattooed housewives with rubber scrotums fixed to the tow hitches of their raised trucks with "Get'r done" plastered over tinted back windows blocked all the exits, and I'll be damned if my shopping cart's alignment was trying to turn my shopping cart into a singularity. I always feel like they are out to get me, but then again I have my reasons. My goal was to procure $60 worth of groceries for the next week or so, but I overshot by $4.05.
Part of that was because of the cheap jug of Carlo Rossi, which is about to throw me into a diabetic coma as we speak. This of course got this thirty-one-year-old carded by a girl who will probably be getting her first zit or period any day now, providing good weather. Honestly, who buys sixty dollars of food to try to sneak by a five dollar bottle of cheap wine in an effort to avoid being carded? And then she didn't believe it was me, a picture that the DMV took two months ago!!! I almost lost my cool but then I realized where I was and that the shopping music seemed like a dead give away.
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