Val's Nose Gets Dislocated In Country Mart

Okay. If you're looking for a bloody accident in which Val was maimed within an inch of her facial features, move along. My nose was not literally dislocated. But it WAS out-of-joint by the time I left Country Mart on Thursday.

I went in for the purpose of procuring salad and salad dressing. Hick and I had a chef salad Wednesday night that I picked up at the deli cold counter. It was delicious. Unfortunately, Hick's Lite Ranch dressing had expired on October 13. I warned him by text, before he got home. He chose to use it anyway, and not stop for more, or use my Ken's Steak House Blue Cheese. 

Anyhoo... the salad was so good that I wanted more. I pushed my cart/walker over to the deli cold case. Three women were standing there chatting. All employees in their black polo shirts with their name tags. Two were inside the counter, the kind of toothless one who makes the pinwheels, and is always friendly and gives me extra shrimp in The Pony's dinners without charging me. And her new assistant. The other was an older black-haired lady I have never seen before. She was standing outside the deli, but in the walkway to get there, beside where the register is.

I thought nothing of them as I stopped to look at the salads. I had an even more delicious one last week that was a fried chicken tender salad. I was looking at the six salad containers on the shelf when I noticed that Black Hair was staring at me. You know how you get that feeling, and then can see it in your peripheral vision. As I squinted through my glasses, trying to peer through the foggy clear plastic lid to see which salads were available, the stare continued. The conversation had stopped. What in the actual EFF?

I turned to look at Black Hair. Met her gaze. Held my tongue, resisting the urge to throw up my hands and say, "WHAT?"

Black Hair acted like I was doing something untoward. Something that was frowned upon. I hadn't even touched one! Although I WANTED TO. So I could see if there was a chicken version, but more specifically to check their dates. Country Mart is notorious for selling expired foods to the unsuspicious shopper.

"Those are chef salads."

"Huh. I was looking for a chicken tender salad."

I picked one up. Glanced at the date. Then put it in my cart. Had I not been under such close surveillance, I might have picked up three or four, to check the dates, and peer inside to see if any of the lettuce was limp. I didn't dare.

"No. They're all chef salads. I made them this morning."

"Oh. So they all expire on the 13th."

"Yes."

Black Hair kept watching as I picked up another salad and put it in my cart/walker. I shoved off, wheeling down to the bakery end for some packaged Hawaiian Rolls, passing a man waiting at the meat counter. Way back up front, there was a woman waiting at the hot deli counter. I assumed they would be served when Gossip Hour was over. 

Well. EXCUSE US for patronizing your business, and inconveniencing you by wanting to purchase the products you sell!

I looped left around the end of the bakery/produce area, and came up the canned goods/pickles/olives/sauces/dressing aisle. Got some Lite Ranch for Hick. Peppercorn Ranch for The Pony. And Ken's Blue Cheese for me. Oops! I forgot that I also wanted some tomatoes, to make my own salads with the romaine that I had at home. So I exited that aisle up front, and turned left to go back to the produce area.

Wait a minute! WHAT was my new catch phrase? Oh, yeah... "ABE ON A SCRATCHER!" My path was blocked by Black Hair and her two cronies! Black Hair was leaning on an empty cart, and the other two stood at the sides. I guess it was a traveling Gossip Session! I huffed, and wheeled over past the seasonal fruits display, almost to the deli counter again, and back to the produce to find some grape tomatoes.

When I go into a store to buy something, I expect the employees to be business friendly. Polite and cordial, without telling me their problems or life story. Just ask what I want, get it for me, take my money. Easy peasy. I do NOT expect them to treat me like I am an inconvenience.

This may or may not be relevant information. A couple days ago, I was in Country Mart, just to buy scratchers from the machine up front. A man and woman stood near the lottery machine. Both wearing the black polo shirts and name tags. I'd never seen either one. I assumed the man might be a regional manager, and perhaps the woman was the store manager. 

MAN: "Well, out of all the applicants, she's the best we have. There's really nobody else. We can try it for a while, and if it doesn't work out, we'll do something else."

WOMAN: [nod]

Maybe this might have been about Black Hair? Maybe she was the new deli manager? I don't know if they needed a new deli manager. I don't even know if she was a manager. But as I passed their blockade at the head of the produce section, I heard the word "schedule." And Black Hair seemed to have some kind of power over the other two deli women.

Maybe she was just an actual witch...