John Mc

This is a collection of my thoughts. Some of the thoughts that I once had, I no longer do. Some thoughts I have now I have never had. Yet none shal be discounted. This blog is soley for the enjoyment of the author and the readers. On occasion the views expressed are overly exagerated in order to prove a point. Also there may be a dirty word or thought in some of the posts. Grow up and take this for what it's worth - a blog that barely anyone will ever see.

1/10/2007

Buisness Trip

So, I went on my first business trip for work the other day. Yup. For the restaurant.
I went to the grocery store.
And not the good one. I went to the one where the brand names were nowhere to be found. Fruit Loops were "Fruit Circles." (I'm guessing "Fruit O's" and "Fruit Oh's" were already taken.)
I was on a mission to find some wheat bread and some vanilla ice cream. These were my goals. My objectives. Seems simple enough, right?
Of course not.
I walk up and down the aisles (Which were not defined by shelves, but piles. It was like an indoor New Delhi market.) searching for the wheat bread. After locating it, I assumed that the vanilla ice cream would be in the freezer.
It wasn't.
They had Strawberry Swirl and Fudge Swirl, but no regular vanilla.
So, I searched the aisles again for someone who made the mistake of filling out an employment form at this place. When I finally located someone, I brought her over to the freezer and asked if there was any vanilla ice cream. Perhaps some in the back.
Doesn't the back of the store seem somewhat mysterious? It is an infinite never-ending and undefined space where countless items are kept. They are not put out on the floor in order to make those who wear a smock feel more important. It gives them something to do. They get to go back to the borderline magical "back" to locate the item. You take a peek when those double doors swing open to see what might be in the "back." Big Foot? Amelia Airheart? An honest politician? The possibilities are endless. But, instead you see the grey cinder block wall and a bunch of carts and palates.
So, I ask this woman to get me some from the back. She asked again what type of ice cream I was looking for. So I reminded her. "vanilla."
She pointed to the two visible tubs in the freezer and said "We have the strawberry swirl and the fudge swirl." though some sort of accent that I couldn't place. It was Spanish with Eastern European or something. She sounded like Borat's love child.
"Any WITHOUT the swirl?" I asked her.
"We have the strawber-" I thanked her and moved on. Her grasp of the English language did not give me any confidence in her responses.
So, without my tub of vanilla ice cream, I went up to the check-out with my wheat bread.
The cashier then decides to tell me "This is on sale for 25 cents!"
"Really? That's great." I didn't really care about the price, (it was the restaurant's money anyway!) but it's always nice to find a bargain. It's like another mini-accomplishment while shopping for crap.
"Oh, wait." She said. "That was yesterday."
I was about to go out of my head. "Then why did you tell me today?"
"I don't know. We were pricing it at 25 cents yesterday because it was out of date."
My brain paused. It had been through a lot trying to make sense of my experiences while in this health code violation. My brain needed a minute to process this new information and delete a few phone numbers to make room for the processing.
"It isn't out of date today?" I asked her once my brain began to slowly work again.
She shrugged her shoulders and did that muted "I don't know" where someone nearly hums the words.
I gathered my change and walked out of there hoping that our customers had some sort of weird infections, because they were going to be eating penicillin tonight.
I then went to three other places before I found somewhere that sold regular vanilla ice cream. I got about 4 boxes of it (because that equaled the tub) and figured that my restaurant can deal with that. I'm not dealing with much more.
I then used the self-check out because my brain was already hurting.

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