One of today’s many many highlights was a trip to the grocery store! Land of fluorescent lights and preservative-laden consumables!
But first, I washed my car! Yes, I figured that after owning it since last September, perhaps it was time for its first bath (it’s raining now, how appropriately ironic). The three extra quarters for the extra time I was sure to need for the do-it-yourself spray-thing wash were secured carefully in my pocket as I started. Hey, this car’s a lot bigger than my old one! I’m going to need those quarters for more time to rinse off all this pink soap!
Somehow, though, two quarters magically vanished, so part of the car is still a little pink. But hey, the rain will wash it off, right? So I’m covered.
On to the store. Since I was alone, I brought my tunes to complement in a solitary fashion my experience navigating wide aisles filled with people and carts laden with stuff. In other words, store people? I don’t want to interact with you just now, thank you!
So I grab organic strawberries and onions and milk and eggs and all the things that will sustain us (like we were already starving. right.) over the next week or so. I create a serpentine path through the overly air-conditioned aisles, wending my way through zones of disinterest to the sections I want to be in.
Finally it’s time to pay and I almost make a suggestion to the cashier that she take a little training in customer service; eye contact, a greeting, and some words of politeness would go a long way but instead I inwardly roll my eyes and reach back to my pocket to grab my sunglasses on the way out.
They’re not there.
Could they still be in the car? No, they could not. I remember taking them off when I got inside, but I still go out and check.
I retrace my steps, hoping to find they have dropped on the floor somehow. Nothing.
I ask at the customer service desk, and even rifle through the lost and found bag which contains someone’s car keys, a couple of wallets (don’t these people miss this stuff?) several pairs of sunglasses that aren’t mine, and a single small shoe about Eric’s size. I can guess how that got there.
One of four things has happened:
1. The sunglasses dropped and I missed finding them. They will be found next month when they get around to cleaning the floor.
2. They dropped and someone found them. They haven’t yet brought them to customer service but they will, and I will be contacted for a joyous reunion with my eyewear.
3. They dropped and someone found them. Someone lacking scruples who will keep them.
4. Someone took them from my pocket when I was engrossed in steadfastedly ignoring my surroundings.
Bah.
June 1st, 2007 at 2:39 pm
The real question is, “if I were sunglasses, what is the first thing I’d do with fifty cents?”
Figure that out, and you’ll get your shades back.
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:02 am
The two quarters have magically reappeared and so far are remaining quiet on the matter of the sunglasses. I think I’ll leave them in a sticky vending machine somewhere if they don’t come clean soon