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November 10, 2007
Judging a kvetchy book.
After several delays, I made a shopping excursion to our local supermarket tonight. The rain was cold and steady as I walked from the far end of the crowded lot to the front door. Must remember to ask Liz what happened to that umbrella that used to live in the map pocket.
Our list was rather long, so to simplify matters, I printed it out and stapled my coupons. I made a slow mosey up and down every aisle, since I hate doubling back to Natural Foods for soy crisps when I'm already strolling through Beer and Wine.
I was bedeviled by a young couple the entire time. She was tall and thin, moving slowly on crutches as she supervised her husband. His job, apparently, was to push the cart and maintain a thousand-yard stare while Gimpy McControlfreak limped behind.
"No, not that wheat germ, the other kind. Don't you notice? Wait, is that the nonfat yogurt or the lowfat? I told you I wanted the lowfat. Oh, you have the lowfat. Well, the package looks so similar -- you wouldn't believe how many times I've gone home with the wrong one."
Based on appearances, she had two gears: harp and kvetch.
I don't know these people, so I have no idea if she's like this all the damned time. For all I know, she broke her ankle last week running for a streetcar and the discomfort and inconvenience have her nerves on edge.
Still, something in the way she moved led me to believe that she's pretty comfortable in Queen Bee mode. I do all of our grocery shopping, because weirdly, I sort of enjoy it. If I couldn't walk unassisted temporarily, I'd either place an order with Safeway.com for home delivery, or I'd send my beloved to the store with a detailed list.
And if she came back with the wrong yogurt, I wouldn't get my boxer briefs out of joint, either.
Posted by Your Protagonist at November 10, 2007 07:49 PM