Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Marshmallow Meltdown

Orthodox Christmas was yesterday, and Beth wanted to make her ambrosia salad...and after blowing a small fortune at the grocery store, I returned home to discover I'd forgotten mini-marshmallows. I am already pressed for time because, well, just because. But I still need those mini-marshmallows!

So I get back in the car and:

Stop # 1

1. Decide I don't want to drive all the way back to the grocery store 3 miles away, and that I'll just run into a nearby drugstore. After all, they have popcorn, candy, nuts, soda, et cetera. They'll have mini-marshmallows, right?

2. Wrong.

3. I buy Christmas wrapping paper at 75% off and two packs of cigarettes, use my debit card, and ask for twenty bucks back.

4. Drive a few blocks over to Big Bird.

Stop # 2

5. Big Bird is marshmallow-less, too. I look everywhere. I search high and low. I even ask one of the rare employees who can occassionally be spotted skulking amongst the shelves. This dude's about as helpful as a venereal wart. Following his severely-lacking-in-direct-eye-contact directions, I finally find marshmallows two aisles away from where he said they'd be.

6. But they are FAT marshmallows. Not mini-marshmallows. How can a MAJOR FRICKIN' GROCERY STORE not have mini-marshmallows in stock? Or even an empty space where the mini-marshmallows should be? The holidays are over. Nobody in their right mind is baking anything. For sure nobody's roasting those little suckers over, ya know, matches or whatever.

7. Traffic's crazy, I'm stressed--and then I realize as soon as I get back into the car that I can't find the $20 bucks I got from the drugstore-that-did-NOT-have-the-mini-marshmallows-either.

8. I tear up my purse. I search the seats and floor of my car. I turn my pockets inside out. Finally, although figuring they'll think I'm pulling a fast one--"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I distinctly remember handing you a twenty-dollar bill--and I wasn't born yesterday, you sneaky old heifer."--I call the mini-marshmallow-less drug store. I am surprised to hear instead, "Oh, yes! We found it on the floor as soon as you left. You must have dropped it."

9. Wow!

Stop # 3 (by now I'm sorry I didn't buy the Fat Ones and just chop 'em up)

10. Drive across the street to A Fancy Schmancy Grocery Store where I'm asphyxiated by the aroma of flavored coffee.

11. I love coffee. I love the smell of coffee. However, I dislike flavored coffee as a general rule (not mochas, of course). Even the smell of it I find semi-nauseating. And this place REEKED!!!!

12. However, they had: MY MINI MARSHMALLOWS! YAY!

13. I crawl back to my car, fight more traffic--Do you ever get the feeling people really ARE out to cause you severe bodily harm...undoubtedly with their vehicles? This isn't a delusion that's wearing off on me from my job?--and drive back to Stop # 1 where the clerk kindly hands me my $20 bill.

14. The clerk's name is.......................Shawna! :)

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