...Prove Their Worth...

"Problems worthy of attack
prove their worth
by hitting back." - Piet Hein

A kind of running diary and rambling pieces on my struggles with assorted books, classes, and other things, as they happen. You must be pretty bored to be reading this...

Thursday, December 05, 2002

Oh baby. I love snow. I hate driving in it, mind you, but I love messing with it, and walking around in it, and falling in it, and shoveling it... 6-10 inches forecast for the Wash. D.C. area. Woohoo!

So I had a rather amusing time buying groceries yesterday. I got into a checkout line, having piled "Paul Newman's Virgin Lemonade"* and lots of other goodies into my shopping cart. In front of me was a middle-aged dude. He was smiling way too much, and winking at everyone whose eye he could catch. He was buying eggs and milk. Then he proceeded to strike up a conversation with me.

Spotting the word 'virgin' on my cartons of lemonade, he went all Beavis-like**, going "hehehehehehe" (literally, like that), and starting talking about how the lemonade couldn't really be virgin - because after all, the lemons had to have been pollinated by some insects. "Hehehehehe". And another. My role in this 'conversation' was to emit monosyllabic grunts and smile non-threateningly. The dude then launched into an abbreviated yet passionate critique of feminism, then informed me that women are just impossible to understand. More grunts from me, along with the discovery that I was now trapped - someone else had gotten in line behind me.

Then the dude looks at my lemonade cartons, emits another "hehehehehehehehe", and loudly and proudly informs me that virgins are rare, and tha the only virgin he ever knew was his wife, when they got married.

I stifled a guffaw, grabbed a snickers bar from the "last chance to buy teeth-destroying stuff" shelf, and started mentally alphabetizing the ingriedient list, to look busy. At about this same time, the guy shifted his attention to the cashier, and started talking at length about eggs.

Now, my initial guess is that the guy had smoked a bit too much weed, but eggs and milk aren't the stereotypical 'munchie' sort of food, or so I think. So maybe he was just crazy. Or crazy and a smoker.

Regardless, that was an unusual grocery run.

* - Don't laugh! It's the best mass-market lemonade I've found!

** - by the end of the 'conversation', I would not have been shocked had he pulled his shirt over his head, bugged his eyes out, and proclaimed that he was The Great Cornholio. Hell, at that point, I might well have chimed in with a loudly emphatic (and urgent!) "I need TP for my bung-hole!"


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