It's C-O-L-O-G-N-E, not C-O-L-O-N...

As promised...

"TALES FROM THE GROCERY CART"!!

I was walking into HEB the other day, and there was a guy in front of me digging what appeared to be a few yards of pants fabric out of his ass... I mean, he was having to do some serious mining to get that shit out. I don't know what made him suddenly become conscious that he was in, you know, public - but he stopped pulling cotton/poly blend from his nether regions and turned around and looked right at me. Man, I tried to keep cool and not give it up, but shit... I just started laughing! He turned crimson and walked away very quickly, almost a full on sprint - no doubt his speed was enhanced by the freedom of non-cloth-packed butt cheeks.

Then there was the grape lady. I was trying to get to the grapes, but there was some wide-assed woman standing there taking up the entire space in front of the grapes. I meandered around and got the rest of my produce, waiting for her to finish up and move on. She didn't. I finally went and stood behind her and saw that she was pulling grape clusters out of their little bags and picking individual grapes off the stems and putting them into another bag. Another girl and I were just giving her the WTF? look... Man, I (wisely) decided that I really didn't want grapes that had been pawed over by this overstuffed Amazon, so I picked up some blueberries instead.

And I don't know what it is about that store, but I don't care how stuffed up my nose is, or how horrible my allergies are, but as soon as I walk in there - my nasal passages are clear as can be. Now normally, my sense of smell is pretty much non-existent. However - in that store - I can smell every goddamned thing in the world. Food, flowers, people... This is NOT a good thing. Especially in Texas, in the summer. So, I was checking out and some woman was standing behind me emitting the most foul and noxious odor... it wasn't necessarily B.O., it was more like a, 'haven't-had-a-proper-bath-for-three-months-AND-I-smoke-like-a-chimney' kind of smell. She was talking to her son very loudly in the epitome of a white-trash Texas drawl: "They got them cannies fer three fer a dollur." Her equally aromatic spawn replied: "They don't got none kinds I like momma." Beautiful. I turned around to get a look at them - don't have to tell you what they looked like - you already know... I will tell you that Momma had a pair of two-dollar Walmart flip flops on, and her feet were positively BLACK... not the bottoms - the TOPS! I don't even know how that happens.

Finally, I was leaving and I saw that there was a hippie-dippie guy with humongous white-dude dreadlocks standing by the door. Now, I hate to stereotype, but in my experience, white dudes with dreads never smell too awfully good. I braced for another odor onslaught, but as I passed, I didn't get a wave of patchouli and man-musk, but instead was hit with a nice, clean, April-fresh blast of Downy fabric softener. He must have just washed his clothes, because he smelled like a comfy blanket. Thank the gods at least for that one!

--------------------------------------------------------------

This has gone on too long, so tune in later this week for: Horror at Sally Beauty Supply. A spine-tingling tale, indeed.

Always, S