Val Has a Bone to Pick

Pick up your jaw off the floor, because the bone I'm about to pick has nothing to do with Hick! It has everything to do with Country Mart. No, I'm not complaining about their penchant for keeping expired foods on their shelves, including the deli. I'm always on the lookout for that. No, my bone-picking has to do with my perceived LACK OF RESPECT from their employees!

Don't even suggest I use that made-up word disrespect. No. Just no. I don't think that's a real word. I'm not about to vent about being disrespected. I just sense a lack of proper respect. I haven't felt such a lack of respect since that time I was sitting in the passenger seat of our gray 1992 Toyota Corolla, waiting on Hick to return with Trick-or-Treating Little Genius and Toddler Pony... and some local ruffians walked up and SOAPED THE WINDSHIELD with me sitting in plain sight!

Anyhoo... on Sunday I was standing at the deli cold counter, looking at the dates on a pack of pinwheels. That's the rolled-up tortillas filled with deli meat, cheese, cream cheese, lettuce, and tomato, and sliced to look like sushi rolls. Not that I've ever tried sushi. Just a description.

Anyhoo... the lady who works in there walked by and said, "Looking at the pinwheels?" She has told me before how good they are, and then revealed that SHE is the person who makes them. I have no argument about their tastiness. I've never complained, but if I did, it would be about them not always being available.

Anyhoo... I told her that yes, I WAS looking at the pinwheels.

"I just made a bunch of them."

"I see that. There are so many today!"

"Another man comes in here and buys four of them, so I've been making more."

"I just put three of them in my cart!"

Off I went with my pinwheel harvest, happy for my future feasts. And then I started thinking about what she'd said. ANOTHER MAN buys four. Was she calling me a man? How dare she! Is this a MAN's ample rumpus following me around? I think not. Should she not have said 

'A MAN,' or 'ANOTHER CUSTOMER,' or 'ANOTHER PERSON?' Because I am not a man.

Okay. Well. I still had my pinwheels. Perhaps it was just a slip of the tongue. An oversight. Nothing meant by it. But there's still the other issue...

This happened right before Hick returned from his trip out west. I noticed his bottle of Wild Turkey 101 was low, so while laying in his supplies like bananas and his individual vanilla ice cream cups with the strawberry and chocolate swirl, I also put a bottle of Wild Turkey in my cart/walker. I could buy it at the liquor store, but I only go in there for scratchers! I'm not mixing MY money with Hick's alcohol purchase!

At the checkout, the transaction went smoothly. I guess that's because I didn't try to use that foreign substance, CASH, but instead paid with my debit card as I usually do with the groceries. When I got out to T-Hoe, I took a look at the receipt as I was writing the total in my checkbook register. Apparently, they have to put in an age when they sell alcohol. Of course it's been a while since I was carded, and not just because I seldom buy liquor. I guess this cashier estimated my age. 

AS 65!

What in the Not-Heaven? Val is NOT 65! Let the record show that she is YEARS younger than 65! How disrespectful is THAT? Just because I walk like my knees are 65, she didn't have to ASSume that I was 65! She was probably snickering right that moment with her rowdy gang of fellow cashiers about the 65-YEAR-OLD ALCOHOLIC who just went through her line!!!

There you have it. TWO bones in one picking. Courtesy of Val, the 65-year-old man.