So, I arrived home and I was starving as usual. I ate a dinner of left over roasted chicken, egg noodles, mixed veggies and a corn muffin. I worked most of it off shoveling the snow that wasn’t there early that morning. When all that was done, I looked about the kitchen for something to call dessert. Unfortunately, nothing fit the bill. I bundled up and hobbled down the great hill and over a few blocks to the local Family Dollar. All I wanted was a box of Vanilla Wafers. Ultimately, I had to settle for a package of imitation-like shortbread cookies but, I’m getting ahead of myself.
As I searched for the cookie aisle I was distracted by what appeared to be the home décor section. In particular my eye was drawn to a plaque. That plaque read simply, “AS FOR ME AND MY HOUSE, WE SHALL SERVE THE LORD.” My mind raced even though I had seen the plaque a few months ago. I stood chucking to myself trying to imagine the wall this would hang on. I also thought it a great deterrent from fun or “devilish” behavior. How could you ever laugh or be anything other than contrite in the room where that plaque hung? No more scolding disobedient chil’ren or scowling at Edgar for his penchant for a pipe and a glass of demon liquor. Granma could just point her chubby index finger towards the plaque. It would say it all. Loud talk or bawdy jokes? There would be none of that, just point to the sign. The old gal would wonder how she ever kept them all in line before and it was a bargain at only $6.00.
Moving right along... I handled a couple vases which were surprisingly attractive. “Enough of that,” I thought. I asked a tiny 30-ish woman where I could find the cookies. Through a nicotine coated larynx she called me, “sweet heart” and pointed me toward two aisles over. It was amazing how many cookie-like products that store sells. I don’t believe that there were any name brand cookies there. Think Little Doris or Little Helen rather than Little Debbie. It would be a mistake to call them imitations. Even from the pictures on the packaging you could tell that they tasted somewhere between a store brand (not even a name brand) and going hungry. I kind figured that if they couldn’t even Photoshop a good picture for the packaging, it probably was not worth the gamble. A case in point might be the oatmeal cookies that looked badly carved from a hunk of driftwood or something. The “Scooter Pies”-like product weren’t much better. The filling looked like that spray foam insulation stuff from the can, same color and all. After research that took about a half hour, I decided that the imitation-like shortbread cookies might be the lesser of evils. This was only after discovering that the Vanilla Wafer-imitation-like product was sold in a plastic bag rather than a box. I actually tried to break one of these morsels through the bag without luck. “Maybe they’re good for teething babies,” I thought? Anyway, how could you screw up a shortbread cookie? I discovered later that dunked in a cup of hot tea, they could be made almost bakery fresh... not. Anywho, I grabbed a package that was offered at the very odd price point of 92 cents and headed towards the counter.
As I walked towards the counter it appeared as if some lights in the back of the store went out. They had, although it was hours before closing. Then the tiny woman reappeared looking all official and in emergency mode. She shouted, “All customers to the front of the store, NOW!” I had swiftly made my way to the cash register as she shouted. I was next in line. I was confused and looked about for someone anyone to say something. Everyone just stared at the five foot, 85 pound woman. What was going on? All I know is the back lights of the store were off and the tiny woman was now demanding that, “All customers leave the store, now!” She seemed to be taking instructions from her cell phone. I imagine that there was some Family Dollar security mucketymuck on the other end. That’s probably spelled wrong if it is even a word? Anyway, we had to leave without explanation. ...but, but, my cookies? I asked the guy at register if I could pay for the cookies or did I just need to leave? “No, I can always take your money,” he smilingly offered. Bewildered I paid him and left the store where I found a large group of confused looking people waiting outside. They looked to me as if I had a prepared statement. Huh? I walked quickly way hoping the terrorists hadn’t won.
I was enlightened later in a superior tone (I will protect the identity here to avoid a slap on the back of my head) that this is standard procedure if a store’s lights go out for any reason. I asked why and was told, “Because people will loot.” Loot from the dollar store, I wondered? Oh, the humanity! On the other hand... hmmm, I wonder what’s the street value of imitation-like-Fig Newtons?
No comments:
Post a Comment