Step Away from The Salad Bar

The Scene: Grocery Supermarket Deli Aisle.
The Time: 2:30 p.m.
The People: Scantily dressed mother, two fat kids
The Backdrop: Lightly crowded for a Thursday afternoon, mix of elderly shoppers and moms with kids. Not my favorite place to be.


I hit this particular store maybe once or twice a week. It's not a fancy store, but the prices are rather cheap and I'm all about the cheap!

We are running out of 2 essential items, milk and ham - (my husbands' other food group).

How I hate long lines at the deli counter.

The people park their big carts in front of you with no room for anyone to wiggle in to get a "number ticket". Then you have to kind of act like a Charles Dickens' pickpocket dodging between people's torsos to look at the specials in the window case. "Excuse me, pardon me, may I get through?" It's a bit of a hassle. Additionally, you wait for 10-15 minutes as the overworked deli servers use archaic old meat slicers (only 2 at a time for a crowd of 10 or more). No place to stand or park your cart. When someone comes after you, you have to reposition your cart for theirs to fit.

Why hasn't modern technology improved the deli counter waiting experience?

You always have that one person that is ahead of you that seems to be buying enough lunch meat for a commissary or school cafeteria.

"Is there anything else I can get you" You wait with baited breath for the person ahead in line to say "No, I'm good for now, thank you" and move on, watching their large cart full with bottled generic sodas and cheesy poofs.

But nooo...you get someone who has to buy a lot and doesn't quite know what and how much. "Um.....can I see the Turkey Breast? Is it slimy? Is it dry? Can I get 2 pounds, thinly sliced? May I have a taste of the garlic bologna? Is it fresh? Is it REEEEAL garlicky?"

I stand there impatiently screaming in my head "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!! MOVE ON ALREADY!!! CHECKOUT!!! LEAVE!!!! You are HOGGING up the DELI COUNTER! The stuff is full of MSG anyway!!! You shouldn't be consuming any more deli than you already have, juuuust look at ya! GOOOOOOO!!!!!"

But I try to think of the situation with empathy and compassion. "Perhaps he/she is one of those parents that is fostering or has adopted 12 kids. Perhaps they are making sandwiches for the destitute homeless...perhaps they have a son/daughter coming home from Iraq and will have a picnic for them!" Ok, patience prevails.

God-dangit it's a struggle at the deli aisle.

So imagine how happy I was when I saw but one solitary woman standing at the counter as her meat was being sliced. She had two kids rambling around her and I was next! She was #53. I would be #54! Nobody behind me, I can look and browse the Dietz & Watson selection with comfort and ease. Ahhhhhh tis the little things, friends....the little things!!!!!!

I am, astutely noted, very much a germaphobe. I am one of those people that wash down the cart with the sani-wipes as they roam about the store. Also I am very much a people watcher. I will study everything about people when I am bored to pass the time. So as I waited, I noted the scene.

She wore a very tiny mini skirt for a very not so young body.

Hair was dyed Elvira black with bad gray roots and she wore a crop top. Clumsy fiery brimstone tattoos showcased on her arm. Then there were the 2 children. 1 girl about the age of 10, very chubby...hair messy. 1 boy about the age of 7, downright fat, powdered sugar around his mouth, and what looked to be smear of jelly on his face?

So I immediately felt sorry for them because they are obviously not very well kept. My pity started to slooowly fade as the girl ran around the aisle feverishly and loudly yelled "I want Salami AND Bologna!!!" Her flip flops obnoxiously pounding the linoleum floor. "No, I'm getting Salami this week because you ate over a pount of Bologna last week!" the mother chided.

The deli clerk and I exchanged OMG! glances for a split second.

"NOOOO!!!!" the girl continued to protest until she slammed her head and arms up against the window display case in an effort to show desperation. Her mouth making deliberate lip gloss marks against the glass. "Knock it off!" cried the mom. "I w a n t BOTH!" cried the girl. "Get off of that glass right now!!!!" the mother warned. The utter agony the girl is experiencing - oh the humanity!

The little girl examined her mom's face to get a read for her next dramatic display as mom continued to place an order for cheese. The girl then placed her fingers into the ledge of the window case as if she was going to somehow shimmy the partition away and grab the gawdamn bologna herself.

The deli clerk finally said something "Be careful hon, this glass isn't that secure!" Tell me about it. The girl was sadly overweight for her young frame. The fact that she kept angrily body slamming against the glass wasn't helping. The clerk looked concerned, annoyed and angered and ready to get rid of them. Not to mention her chubby weight pressing against the deli case would not have been a great site to see from behind the counter!

As this little temper feat was happening, I turned to see the fat brother lurking around the salad bar.

This can't be good, I thought.

It wasn't. He stealthily examined all the contents, dodging his head under the sneeze guard to peer into the food bowls one at a time, on his tip toes. His ankles were not large enough to support the fat legs.

Suddenly, like a not-so miniature version of the Stay Puft Marshmallow man, he began to randomly jog from salad bar bucket to bucket picking things out to eat: Olives, Carrots, Strawberries, a handful of shredded cheese, and yes, a scoop of brownie pudding with his now licked-on fingers.

This wasn't very good at all....no, indeed.

My expression was of this.

This wasn't the first time I saw this unhygienic crime committed at a grocery store salad bar (why I don't eat grocery store salad bars, thank you). But this particular time was sooooooo sooo so - HILLBILLY BLATANT!

The kid was hungry and out of control while the sister put on a histrionic scene for the deli staff.

The mother turned around to see the boy about to scoop up some strawberry cheesecake off the spoon and grabbed him to her. "Don't you dare! You stop that and stay with me!"

Ah, she disciplines them! That's a sigh of relief, right? Obviously, they don't listen to her. Maybe it's a glandular thing with them..I don't know??? When in doubt, I tend to blame everything on glands.

Now I know why the boy's face was dirty with food all over it. Mom had an opened box of powdered doughnuts in her cart. The lad couldn't wait till checkout I suppose. Ahhh sugar. The way to evenly temper and manage thou uncontrolled children.

The girl then started screaming "MY FINGERS ARE STUCK!! HELP!!!" Deli staff hurry over and mother loses grip of the boy to see what happened. "No they aren't! Just kidding! Hahahahaa!!!!" Mom scolds her "I told you before to knock it off or I'm not getting you the Salami!" (That'll teach her, mom) The deli clerk waiting on them chides "You don't want your fingers stuck or you will have to stay here forever" Obviously, this is what happened to her when she was 10 years old.

The mother opens up a pack of the salami and gives the girl 2 slices as if feeding a small barn animal. As they exchange whatever dialogue on what else they need to shop - er - hoard for, I notice the boy has escaped his mother and magnetically adhered himself right back to the salad bar.

The next thing I saw, I gasped in slow motion horror. "noooo oooo ooo!"

He took the salad tongs of the strawberry cheesecake and placed them in his fat mouth, slowly and methodically licked off the contents, proceeded to put them down, and continued to inhale the whipped-cream strawberries the same way...off the tongs, flipping them in his mouth - not just the strawberries, friends, the entire tongs.

Obviously, my expression and guffaw was loud enough. I remember hearing myself exclaim loudly "OH MY GOD NOoooo!!!" in sheer terror as if a building were to collapse on a thousand people.

The mother swiftly turned around and grabbed him again. He was laughing at her as she pulled him over to the cart.

It dawned on me at that very moment. The moment I saw him laughing. I am on candid camera, right? I will get some money prize for witnessing this display of hell children! I began to look around for witnesses and cameras.

Nothing. Nada. Zero. It was just me, the devil children and a few confused customers in that section of the store. No film crew or guy hiding with a microphone and camera.

I did, however, notice the bakery manager come out with a rag and extra tongs to replace those innocent salad bowl items that were raped and massacred at the hands of evil Stay-Puft Marshmallow boy.

An old lady who stood by approached the bakery manager with an "about time" scolding. They both shook heads and stared at the "hitler kids" and mom with disdain. Is that the best the manager could do? I mean his grimy, pudgy hands were ALL OVER that bar, it needs to be restocked after contamination!!! Where is our hero? We need a hero!

Finally, the mom and Satan's offspring moved onward down the aisle and after my deli clerk and I shared panic looks of support with a silent thought of "Hold Me", we then proceeded with my order.

The next 30 minutes in the supermarket were ones that mimicked the scene from The Ten Commandments - where the green mist of the Angel of Death made it's way down the street passing over the doors of certain people while destroying others...

I could hear them - their shrilling voices in the frozen food aisle as they made their way down while I quickly tried to turn my stubborn cart wheel into snack aisle.

I took a look behind and watched them both open and close all the doors of the frozen vegetables sticking their heads in there to get an arctic blast...making stick figures and faces with their fingers against the frosty doors (licking them for added artistic concentration)

I hurriedly tried to escape their wrath while looking for orange juice and could see them desecrating the refrigerated beverage aisle - opening up gallons of fruit juice and iced tea.
The mother was quite busy being engaged in reading the contents of ingredients to a frozen dinner.

Damn the wheel on my cart....why did I have to get a crippled cart? Hurry! They are coming down the next aisle! HURRY!!!!

Laughing, Shrilling...it was evil children taking over the store.

I could have thought I was over-reacting until I felt vindicated at the sight of people all turning their heads to watch the train wreck make it's way down various aisles. As I was about to head to checkout, I decided to follow the noise instead of escape it.

I was not alone. There stood a various assortment of onlookers, mouths agape in bewilderment, at the scene of these hellions reaping havoc on the corn chips, oreos and other snacks in Aisle 5.

The last I saw, a butcher in a full length smeared smock and a store manager, were canvassing the aisles following the sound of the mother continually yipping "Stop it already!" while looking for the commotion of two outlaws under the age of 12. I did not, unfortunately, see the butcher manager carrying any kind of knife or cleaver. He needs to defend and protect himself, for God's sake.

I patted my pregnant belly and said softly under my breath "You do any of this to your momma, and I'm shipping you off to military school. No bologna!"

A face only a Mother & desperate Prostitute could Love

Once upon a time, along the blacktop of a playground, little boy Vinniebadabing Shlomi decided to make a few bucks by demonstrating how a paper towel can absorb Fanta spills in one quick, easy pass.

Inspired by the 64 cents he made that, day, he continued on his quest to be the best dang street-smart sales pitch guy everrrrr!

Fast forward 30 something years later, and Vince Shlomi is a household name as the SHAM-WOW guy...Tada! Dreams can come true.

Feeling like his stardom hit a snag after his latest infomercial hit, "Slap Chop" and wanting a little sexual healing, Sham Wow Shlomi engages a prosti to come to his hotel room one moonlit South Beach night, most likely after he seduces her with a romantic one-liner "Your gonna love my nuts". It didn't take long before Sham-Wow turned into Sham-Kapow! Read the story here.

Now I ask you, what is an educated consumer to do with this news? Relying on the quick absorbency of that thirsty Shammy cloth and the quick precision blades of the Slapchop, I feel disappointed, dare I say, downright saddened that I can no longer support these absolute must-have kitchen gadgets. ::cough::

Yes, now I will have to depend on the archaic paper towel to clean up the 4 gallon coffee spills molding my shag rug as well as chopping all my vegetables and eggs with (gasps) a ...knife!!!

Again, I hope Mr. Shlomishamy can pick up the pieces of this ill-fated rendezvous and continue his infomercial success streak with such innovative and revolutionary inventions.

Just when I'm concerned about what my 1st Post should be...

...I get this gem!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQljBMJ2q8o

So, after debating as to who was right and wrong in this scenario, I came to this conclusion: They are both dumbasses.

Her:

Um, forgive me, but what the fleck is this lady thinking? First of all she's speeding through a construction zone and acting like her senior citizen status put her above the law. I love the whole "I dare you!" comment. Who does that? It's a cop, lady. You don't have to like him...as a matter of fact, you are allowed to hate him for calling your ass on the fact that you broke the rules. But really? You had to go all ghetto in his face? Just sign the darn ticket like a nice little law breaker, get back into your non-powder blue pickup and head back on the road to Target to buy dental floss and this. All will be good. I picture this lady to be an older relative, perhaps of Tonya Harding.

And is it me or does her interview pic (2nd video down) resemble this lady?

Him:

"Err, I'm gonna taserrr youuuu". Ok bubba super cop, easy does it. We get it. You own a super shiny badge and expect Gun Ho Granny to listen diligently and obey and offer you a few pieces of Chicklets as a peace offering. You want a very obedient little citizen, in this case, Maxine, to obey and conform. Instead, you got Grandma Xena. Dude, I don't know if you own a mirror, but you are big boy. You could have easily restrained her with cuffs and tossed her defiant hemorrhoidal heiny into the back seat with ease and finesse. But instead you got all Jerry Springer show on her and now you're in hot water. Sigh....ego, power masking behind the excuse of "public safety"

You both should be ashamed of yourselves. This is a result of when two stupid dumbass universal forces meet by fate or destiny and all "crazy" takes place. That is the actual metaphysical definition of what happened.

Grandma, go slow and act like a lady. Super Bubba cop, stop trying to be a dillweed and use common sense. Be ABOVE the law, not a pathetic excuse for it.

Ok, bye.