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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
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February
/ March 2006 Contest Results |
Every Shopping
Trip An Adventure
By
Kathleen Bowling, California
We had been out of
toilet paper for so long that we had depleted our supply of suitable
substitutes... Kleenex, napkins, fabric softener sheets.
So, despite my
aversion to solo-shopping, I had no choice but to head to Costco. Armed
only with a standard-sized cart and list, I bravely traversed the maze
of shrink-wrapped pallets. When I reached the industrial-size detergent
aisle, my cart looked a lot like the Grinch’s sled.
From there, I had to weigh each purchasing-decision not by price or
need, but by whether it could be tucked into the tiny crevices that
remained accessible. Tofu fit better than paper towels, so I crammed it
in. We didn’t need three pounds of Preparation H, but the tube was just
the right size to wedge behind the dehydrated onions. By the time I was
done, Houdini wouldn’t have been able to find space to shove a
toothpick.
Proud of my packing abilities, I tried to push the cart to the
check-out. But it wobbled wildly and pulled to the right. Shoppers
trembled in terror as I did donuts in the produce section. Mothers
shielded their children from impending detonation. Finally, a teenager
with a red apron and a nametag offered assistance. I tossed him my
rotisserie chicken and heaved the cart to the front of the store.
While waiting in line for 17 hours, I realized that I hadn’t eaten
lunch. Disappointed that the potato chip box had been too big for my
deficient cart, I opted for green olives. While I snacked, another guy
in a red apron approached.
“You want an olive?” I asked.
“No, thank you, Ma’am,” he said. “I was just noticing that you might
benefit from Executive Membership.” He held my non-executive card and a
laptop which revealed year-to-date purchases approaching the GNP. “You
can start earning rebates today.”
“Are you offering this to everyone whose cart could feed a small
country?” I asked.
“Yes.”
His honesty was refreshing, so I agreed to upgrade my card. He headed
off to the customer service booth while I unloaded everything onto the
conveyor belt. It took two carts to carry what I had managed to squeeze
into one.
“CARRY OUT!!!” the cashier screamed. She may as well have yelled, “Get a
load of this lady! Have you ever seen so much stuff?” Everyone gawked
but no one came forward. “We’ll take your second cart to the front door
where you can wait for assistance. Don’t forget to pick up your new card
as you leave.”
At customer service, I saw something that rocked my world... a camera.
It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t had time to shower, brush my
hair, or apply makeup that morning.
“You aren’t going to take my picture, are you? I asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Bowling,” Click. “You look fine.”
Had I known that a photograph would be required for an executive
membership, I would have gladly forgone the rebates. In addition to wild
hair and a greasy face, my new ID card revealed dark, black circles (the
remnants of yesterday’s mascara) under closed eyes. My mouth was open. A
shadow blocked two of my bottom teeth. I looked like a crazy, drunken
hillbilly.
On our way to the car, we heard a series of small explosions. Thirty-six
cans of Diet Dr. Pepper were abandoning their cardboard container on the
bottom of my cart, rolling riotously around the parking lot. The Red
Apron and I tried to dodge Aspartame napalm that shot out from under
rotating tires. By the time we reached my SUV, we looked like victims of
a volcanic eruption.
I wanted to crawl under the car to hide. But there were groceries to
unload. So I opened my trunk and stared in disbelief at forty-four
pounds of dog food, which I had forgotten to take out before heading to
the store.
Red Apron
watched in horror as I threw the eggs into the bottom of a thermal bag,
just under the milk. He gasped when I freed the flame-broiled chicken
from its plastic prison and flung it into the passenger seat. When I
opened the Yoplait fridge-pack and started tossing individual cups into
the backseat, he backed slowly away from my car.
I finished
unpacking in record time, which was good since I was running late to
pick up my daughter from school. It wasn’t until I pulled away from the
parking lot that it hit me... I forgot to buy the toilet paper.
http://www.BowlingWrite.com
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