Love on Aisle 5

Today I stopped by the lower-end grocery store in my town because I knew they carried the soft drinks I wanted and the store is on my way home. As I swung my abbreviated grocery cart into the soft drink aisle, there were three adults (two men and one woman) standing there taking up the entire aisle. One of the men and the woman were embracing, completely unaware that there was anyone else around and certainly weren't going to move out of the way. And just to give you an idea, both men were wearing sweat-stained t-shirts and jeans. I didn't look close enough to see if everyone in the group had all their teeth.

The lone guy, we'll call him the third wheel, turned around and looked at me, not sure if he should be embarrassed or happy for them, and said, "Wedding bells". Only when he said it, it came out as "Weddin' Bay-ells". I rolled my eyes and turned my snub-nosed cart around to take the next aisle over and cut back. They were still blocking the other end of the aisle. Are there no better places to propose than the local grocery store's soft drink aisle? I mean really! God help me, I'm going to have to give up soft drinks.

Head’s Up

Sometimes you might feel like you’re stating the obvious, but then someone goes and does something so asinine that you just have to cover yourself. So it is for the City of Concord and their peaceful park. FORE!

I guess the next obvious sign my tax dollars will pay for is: “No French kissing of siblings or first cousins allowed”.

A Stranger in an Even Stranger Land

I live in a place where I don’t belong, especially being menopausal. I have no patience to deal with the craziness. Soon after moving here I had an encounter that should have made me reconsider my decision but at that point it was too late.

One evening around dusk I called animal control because this kid said he saw a wild boar down in the field across from my house. I shined my flashlight down there and while I could see something I could not tell what it was. I called the sheriff because animal control was closed (of course - they're closed nights and weekends - too bad no one alerted the animals) and told him I could see an animal but it was dusk and I couldn't make out what it was. 

He asked, "Is it lying down?" 

"No. It's standing up." 

"Is it moving?" 

"No, that's the weird part, it's standing still." 

"Is it a dog?" 

"No, I don't think so." 

In the meantime the kid goes to another neighbor's house and all 300 pounds of her comes barreling out the door, caftan billowing in the breeze, while I'm talking to the sheriff and I said, "Do you know what this thing is?" 

And in her thickest southern accent she yells, "It's a fake pig!" 

The sheriff heard her through the phone and proceeded to explain to me that people use the fake pig for target practice with a bow and arrow. I don’t understand the redneck and his ways so I said, "Sorry to disturb you but I'm from Atlanta and I've never seen anything like that." I promptly hung up.

The next day when it was light I walked by to get a better look down in the field. A man’s voice from Big Mama’s house said, “Looks real, don’t it?” Yes, it did.