Wednesday, November 14, 2018

The Bumbling Bear

Hick means well. I'm sure. Giving up his time better spent junking and Goodwilling, to drive sweave me to my doctor nurse practitioner appointment Monday morning.

The trip was fairly uneventful until we reached Bill-Paying Town, where my appointment was in the clinic in the same building as the hospital. Let the record show that we used to have TWO hospitals here in Backroads, but that Hick's went out of business, and mine and the boys' absorbed some of its staff. Anyhoo...Hick doesn't know his way around my hospital very well, especially now that they've upgraded the ER.

Hick missed the first turn that can you get in there. "Is this it? Will this take me there?"

"NO! It's an apartment complex. It doesn't go through. You should have gone by the surgery center. I thought you knew! You've had surgery there twice." Sheesh! It's not like we're in a big city. Bill-Paying town has a population of 18,000.

Hick went on to the main road, almost turned into the EXIT lane of the roads divided by the hospital sign, and tried to drop me off at the ER. "I know I have a cold, but it's really not that serious!" 

The plan was for him to park, come wait inside in the chairs by the elevator while I was upstairs, and then go bring T-Hoe to pick me up. However, the lab had the audacity to demand all cell phones and BEEPERS be turned off inside its confines, and I didn't text Hick to get the car. I'd told him, "I can probably walk back out. I don't care if I'm wheezing AFTER my appointment." Silly me. I'd thought Hick would park in the first available space. But we walked out to the LAST ROW, (me without a coat) even though upon arrival, I'd noticed only the first two rows were full. I remember, because I'd thought, "Oh. Veteran's Day. I guess not many people want to get up early for the doctor." Hick swore that the rows were all full and this was the best he could do.

On the way home, we stopped by Walmart for Chicken Bacon Ranch Pinwheels, and spent over $60 (without finding any pinwheels). I don't normally have Hick with me at Walmart. I climbed out of T-Hoe, and immediately lost him.

"Here. I was getting you a cart."

"Why in the Not-Heaven would I want to push a cold cart around the store?"

"There may not be any inside. The cart rack was overflowing."

Hick continued to push MY cart/walker. Tried to push it right in the exit door. So I had to scold him about using the entrance. Where rows of carts were waiting. While I was busy discovering the lack of pinwheels, Hick ordered himself some General Tso's chicken from the deli counter, for lunch, to go with his fried rice left from Friday's supper. I must say, he handled that transaction with no problem.

Buying his new favorite Golden Delicious apples, however, WAS a problem. Hick bought some at the auction the other night, and of course they were the best apples ever invented, grown, and sold at an auction. So he was looking for some. He wheeled the cart he got me right down the apple aisle.

"What about your Golden Delicious apples?"

"They don't have none."

"Um. I think they do." I said, picking up a 10-lb bag clearly labeled Golden Delicious.

Hick continued pushing the cart he got for me, while I walked along without swinging my arms like Molly Shannon in a Seinfeld episode. Because I didn't know what to do with my arms. They're always on the cart! Of course Hick made wide turns around the ends of the aisles, narrowly avoiding several collisions.

While I was buying olives and flat-sliced sandwich pickles, Hick was harvesting two bags of sugar free candy off the other side of the aisle. Looking at me accusatorily as he put them in the cart. As if I don't look for them every week. I can't get them if their space is not stocked.

On the spaghetti aisle, which Hick thought should be by the mac and cheese aisle (au contraire, my baffled bear), he decided that after 29 years of demanding spaghetti noodles (which I don't like), what he REALLY likes is rigatoni.

On the soda aisle, Hick had the six-packs of bottled Diet Mountain Dew placed all wrong on the side of the cart, with the bar code turned away from the checker. So he had to turn them around (with my suggestion). Once in line, the checker forgot to ring up the soda, because Hick was standing at the head of the cart, where I couldn't push it all the way through so the checker could use her hand-scanner by taking one step around her bag carousel. I reminded her, of course. Because I'M HONEST LIKE THAT.

Hick was also blocking the escape route of the checker on our right, from her tiny workspace at her register. She excused herself, trying to get out of her prison, and Hick said, "That's alright. You're okay." As if HE was the one in control, and not HER, trying to do her job.

Yes, I appreciate Hick taking the time to drive me to my appointment on a snow-forecast morning. I bear him no ill will for being a bumbling bear. In fact, I didn't even yell at him. And he didn't even say, baiting-like, "I should have known I would do something wrong!" so I could reply, "I knew you would, too!"

Nope. We were home by 11:30, with half the day still ahead of us. To spend separately, of course.


  1. After an adventure like that, some alone time is merited. 'Course I wouldn't know anything about that, being perfect myself. (insert uproarious laughter)

    1. You can't fool me. I've seen that LOOK you get from SWMBO.

  2. Replies
    1. Yeah. Even when they're trying to be good, they're still very trying.

  3. A trip to the grocery store is never without issues, even without a Hick. My pet peeve is the ladies (almost everyone of them) that leave their cart in the middle of the aisle while they price and ingredient compare every different brand of potato chip. All the aheming and coughing and eye rolling will not get them to move that friggin cart 6 inches to the side so I can pass!!!

    Otherwise I love the Supermarket.

    1. I hate that too, I usually spin my cart around and stomp off then enter that blocked aisle from the other end and hope they've moved on.

    2. Sometimes I do that "other end" thing, just to shame them, hoping they'll notice my stinkeye of disapproval.

      Sometimes, I give their cart a little nudge, so I can get by. Then they rush to grab their purse, obviously not knowing I'm the honest type who tells the checker when she forgets to ring up my soda.

      Joe can't do the nudge, though, because he's a man. A man can't touch a woman's cart, even with his own cart. He's likely to get thumped over the head with that purse, like Ruth Buzzi beating Artie Johnson on Laugh-In back in the day.

  4. I try to avoid shopping with my husband whenever possible :-)

  5. General Tso's chicken is a real thing? I heard of it on The big Bang Theory, but thought they made that up. Now I want to know how is it different from plain chicken?
    I like rigatoni too, and the spiral one which is called spiralli or spirelli and has different names if it's a different brand. I also like the fettucine, because I prefer my long noodles flat not round.
    So you two made a pretty good shopping team this time. I never know what to do with my hands if someone else is pushing the cart either. It's kind of un-nerving letting go like that.

    1. General Tso's is chunks of chicken fried with some type of breading, and then soaked in a red/orange spicy sweet sauce.

      I don't like a long noodle. I am the enemy of long noodles. I even used to break the spaghetti in half before cooking.

    2. I don't think it's legal to break spaghetti before cooking it!!

    3. Well, my defense attorney will argue that I was unable to read the fine print on the box, which is unfairly marketed to young people with better eyesight.

    4. Uh-Oh, I'm a law breaker. I break the long noodles too, sometimes into thirds instead of halves, so I can scoop my dinner with a spoon while reading blogs or watching TV.