Supermarket

Remind me never to go shopping just two hours before a popular local sports team plays in an important playoff game.

Imagine the day before Christmas mixed with an upcoming apocalypse: parking lot full, every store employee wearing a jersey, swarms of people buying potato chips and candy and soda and every other food item you might buy to watch a sporting event on television. I ran into someone I went to school with and she asked, “Hey Bobby, loading up on snacks for the game?” I smiled and laughed, though really what I had in my cart was just what I buy every Sunday. Another reason I was smiling is because the only people who ever call me Bobby are family members and old girlfriends, and perhaps people who think I’m a child actor from the ’40’s.

Where is the Letter that I promised a couple of weeks ago? You may be asking that question as you check your mailbox daily and see nothing but bills and catalogs and coupons. The answer: it’s right next to me here on the coffee table. Look for it next weekend!

New column up.

2 thoughts on “Supermarket

  1. How were you supposed to know that this local playoff game was going to be on that particular Sunday, unless you were a part of it or heard about it somehow otherwise?!

    Still Bob, it’s not as bad or aggravating (I don’t think) as so many other odd and weird occurrences you’ve endured at the market in previous years. Of course, if you have any more weird tales to tell in the future, let us know. Surely there will be more in store for this column!

    Meanwhile, I’m looking forward to getting my letter this weekend or soon after.

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