Groceries, Cheerleaders, and the Gay Stooges
This all fits together somehow, I just haven’t figured it out yet.
My wife sent me to the grocery store at 10 PM last night. This is one of her endearing little habits that has a tendency to make me quite grumpy in a hurry. We needed things for the kid’s lunch today, and she had forgotten to stop and get them on the way home. I decided that I would not mention the fact that she has to pass three grocery stores, I don’t know how many convenience stores and that her mother owns and operates a deli that is right across the street from where she works.
But I digress…..
So I get my jacket on, find all of my keys, glasses, wallet, shoes, and get in the truck and drive the two blocks, in the rain, in the cold, to get bananas and cookies for lunch.
One of the things that used to help ease my pain was the fact that our grocery store had this uncanny knack for hiring cheerleaders from the two local high schools. For the record, I can’t stand cheerleaders, and it makes me queasy when my daughter says she wants to be one, but at least they are pleasant to look at.
Imagine my disappointment when I walk into the store---no cheerleaders. The have been replaced by Larry, Carl and Stewart…the Gay Stooges. I took one look at these three ( that’s all it took) and made a beeline down the bread aisle.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with gays, lesbians, or whatever variation that makes your clock chime. But I was expecting young nubile cheerleaders…sigh. Oh, what, you want to know how I could tell they were gay? Lets see. Golf shirts buttoned all the way to the top, little black glasses, permed hair with product in it, watches on the wrong hand, and the mannerisms that I can’t adequately describe.
I get the three or four items that my dear wife wanted and tried to go through the check out line.
The lady in front of me had coupons. Lots of coupons. Either Larry or Carl was working the register, and she was giving him attitude. Carl was getting positively pissy right back. They were arguing over 13 cents! I started fishing around in my pocket for the change to get this broad the hell out of my way, when Carl caved and gave her the coupon. Then she got out her check book to pay for the order. The ice cream that I was holding was starting to melt from the heat in my grip.
I started to look for another line. Stewart, the other cashier was so busy talking to Cathy in the office, that it would be too much trouble to actually acknowledge that another customer was waiting. Now, to really set the scene of this freak show, Cathy would make two of me. I don’t know how she managed to get so big, but I swear one day I saw her get stuck in the door of a city bus. This is the gods honest truth. Stewart is actually doing his little simpering flirty act that gay men seem to do with fugly women.
Finally, the woman in front of me gets her head out her ass, gets her bill paid, and gets the hell out of my way.
Remember Larry, the third stooge? He was bagging. I was signing the ticket from my debit card while he was putting the bananas in the bag. I looked up at him, he was looking at Cashier Carl, and fondling my bananas. He gave Cashier Carl a slightly raised eyebrow, as his fingers slipped across my breakfast.
I grabbed the groceries and walked out. Larry said, “Have a Nithe day.”
Bring on the cheerleaders.
Troubador
My wife sent me to the grocery store at 10 PM last night. This is one of her endearing little habits that has a tendency to make me quite grumpy in a hurry. We needed things for the kid’s lunch today, and she had forgotten to stop and get them on the way home. I decided that I would not mention the fact that she has to pass three grocery stores, I don’t know how many convenience stores and that her mother owns and operates a deli that is right across the street from where she works.
But I digress…..
So I get my jacket on, find all of my keys, glasses, wallet, shoes, and get in the truck and drive the two blocks, in the rain, in the cold, to get bananas and cookies for lunch.
One of the things that used to help ease my pain was the fact that our grocery store had this uncanny knack for hiring cheerleaders from the two local high schools. For the record, I can’t stand cheerleaders, and it makes me queasy when my daughter says she wants to be one, but at least they are pleasant to look at.
Imagine my disappointment when I walk into the store---no cheerleaders. The have been replaced by Larry, Carl and Stewart…the Gay Stooges. I took one look at these three ( that’s all it took) and made a beeline down the bread aisle.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with gays, lesbians, or whatever variation that makes your clock chime. But I was expecting young nubile cheerleaders…sigh. Oh, what, you want to know how I could tell they were gay? Lets see. Golf shirts buttoned all the way to the top, little black glasses, permed hair with product in it, watches on the wrong hand, and the mannerisms that I can’t adequately describe.
I get the three or four items that my dear wife wanted and tried to go through the check out line.
The lady in front of me had coupons. Lots of coupons. Either Larry or Carl was working the register, and she was giving him attitude. Carl was getting positively pissy right back. They were arguing over 13 cents! I started fishing around in my pocket for the change to get this broad the hell out of my way, when Carl caved and gave her the coupon. Then she got out her check book to pay for the order. The ice cream that I was holding was starting to melt from the heat in my grip.
I started to look for another line. Stewart, the other cashier was so busy talking to Cathy in the office, that it would be too much trouble to actually acknowledge that another customer was waiting. Now, to really set the scene of this freak show, Cathy would make two of me. I don’t know how she managed to get so big, but I swear one day I saw her get stuck in the door of a city bus. This is the gods honest truth. Stewart is actually doing his little simpering flirty act that gay men seem to do with fugly women.
Finally, the woman in front of me gets her head out her ass, gets her bill paid, and gets the hell out of my way.
Remember Larry, the third stooge? He was bagging. I was signing the ticket from my debit card while he was putting the bananas in the bag. I looked up at him, he was looking at Cashier Carl, and fondling my bananas. He gave Cashier Carl a slightly raised eyebrow, as his fingers slipped across my breakfast.
I grabbed the groceries and walked out. Larry said, “Have a Nithe day.”
Bring on the cheerleaders.
Troubador
posted by Troubador @ 11:42 AM
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