This morning I started watching The Birds. I've never seen the whole thing. Still haven't, since I missed the first 20 minutes, and gave up on the last 10, because I was tired of the commercials. Besides, it was 1:20 already, and I hadn't eaten lunch, and I didn't have my 44 oz Diet Coke!
Besides my soda, I only needed one thing from town. Still, it's good to drive the 10 minutes to civilization every day, because in town, I get ALL THE BARS on my 4G connection. So I can email myself pictures, or download stuff in seconds, things that won't happen at all at the Mansion.
I ran in Country Mart to get some cupcake papers. Save A Lot only had the little short paper ones when I looked yesterday. I wanted normal size, in foil. Well. You'd a thought it was the day before Thanksgiving, so many people were shopping at 1:30 on Labor Day! Especially the differently-abled, because all the handicapped parking spots were full. Not that I park in them. But I park in the ones next to them, up by the building. And THOSE spots were full, too. But don't you worry about Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's jacked-up knees, because there was an end spot right across from the exit door. The door that says EXIT ONLY, but has the vestibule clogged with carts for people to grab to do their shopping when they enter.
I took a cart, even though all I needed were some cupcake papers. Carts are like walkers, but without the fuzzy yellow tennis balls on the feet. I actually think they were new carts, all lightweight, with gray-plastic-like paint over the metal. The wheels did not have rubber flapping from the tires. And they steered straight. I wouldn't mind having one at home, but that's probably frowned upon.
The best place to look for cupcake papers is on the baking aisle, right? I looked. And looked. Looked some more. I saw candles and tubes of icing and sprinkles and those packs of 8 different decorating tips. Across the aisle, there were paper plates and foam plates and plastic silverware and disposable containers and foil. Back to the cakey side, there were mixes and muffins and graham cracker crusts and bread mix and NO MUFFIN CUPS. I went all the way down the aisle, and finally found exactly what I was looking for under the seasoning packets for fish frying, I think.
So back I went up front, ready to get out of there and get my soda and get home for lunch. Two checkers were open. One had a guy with gray Bob Ross hair, in raggedy jeans, who had been consulting with a younger guy who was at the quarter-pusher machine over at the end of the checkout lanes. It seemed like they had just run to town in the midst of a cookout to grab some things. Not saying they were drunk, but they were a bit off kilter. My weirdo counter (like a Geiger Counter, only silent) was clicking in my head. It's like they'd come at each other from opposite ends of the store, talk with their hands (and voices) about what they should get, then go past each other. Bob had several items already on the conveyor, including a frozen pizza in a box, a gallon of milk, and small cans of something that didn't occur to me to care.
The other line had an older lady (probably younger than me) with half a cart full of groceries. She had it already on the counter, her last two items being a chocolate half-cake in one of those odd clear plastic half-circle containers, and a white foam carryout container from the deli hot food bar. I figured she'd be the quickest customer, so I pulled in my cart with its two tiny containers of foil cupcake papers in the baby-seat area.
Of course you know what happened, right?
The checker fiddled and faddled. She stopped, with only the cake and deli remaining un-rung, and re-did all of her plastic sacks on the bag carousel. THEN the customer asked her how to fill out a check. So...I did what anyone would do, especially that Murphy guy, because it's the law, apparently, and backed up my cart and went over to Bob Ross's checkout.
You know how this is going to end, right?
Bob had already put all his stuff on the conveyor, and the checker had rung them up, and she was giving Bob the total, and he was scanning his card. Piece of half-cake, right? But then I heard that noise of a declined card. And Bob turned to the quarter-pusher all the way across the store, and hollered his name, and started waggling his fingers, and Q-P waggled his back and Bob said, "It's 2, right?" and went back to poking at the card scanner. Then the checker told him it was six more dollars and some change, and he pulled a roll of bills out of his raggedly pocket and peeled one off and paid.
By now, people were lining up. The half-cake lady's checker called for backup. Mine scanned my two packs of cupcake papers. Except they refused to scan. BOTH of the packs. So she had to poke the numbers in by hand. Then she said, "That'll be $13.53."
The NOT-HEAVEN you say!
"That can't be right. They were only a dollar-twenty-something apiece."
"Oh. Yes. They were $1.23 each." She fiddled and faddled and recalculated and charged me two dollars and something.
Why does it have to be SO hard to buy regular foil cupcake papers in Hillmomba?