Friday, November 28, 2008

Blue Friday

Went with the Saint to take care of some banking in Whitesville. It isn't quite a trip to the big city. But it is the closest thing we have - out here in the County. So it was into the branch office of BB&T so the Saint could make her deposit. As a special treat she returned with some of those individually wrapped soft mint candies. You know the ones that seem to just dissolve when they touch your tongue. Yupper, simple pleasures are the best.

Across the street then to the IGA (#46). Its the usual stuff; milk, eggs, cereal, cheese, peanut butter. When the Saint asked the bag boy Mikey if he had eaten his fill of turkey yesterday he allowed that he had. Then it comes to light that he had also come into work. Grandma at the register was quick to assert that Mikey had volunteered. (Seems as though she might not have been as willing.)

Everyone knows Mikey over to the IGA. After all he has been there ever since anyone can remember. The younger kids make a point of saying "Hello" and "Good-bye" to Mikey. To them he an adult that they can call by his first name. Older folks just appreciate that Mikey is all about polite service. He'll take your groceries out the car and carefully put them in the trunk for you. Always a smile from Mikey.

Down the block on the other side of the main street, Highway 54, is the Dollar General. Half jokingly I suggested that we should stop there so we can pretend we are rich. Turns out the Saint had DG on her list, just neglected to mention it to me. So we stop in to enjoy the small town mercantile ambiance.

It began to close in on me. Too many people (12) milling around in isles so narrow that two of those tiny shopping carts can't pass without sideswiping. Sales women stocking shelves with Taiwan toys and knock-off electronics. Each of them wearing plastic head bands with spring bobble reindeer careening around their lacquered bouffants like the stars and exclamation marks from a cartoonists knock-out blow.

Then from a far corner comes a stern matronly voice, "What is that smell?"

Another, responding from the opposite corner of the store, "I don't know but it sure smells."

Then a third voice chimes in, "Smells like its coming from over there."

It was closing in on me fast. The isles felt narrower. The Christmas music seemed louder. Then the matron voice piped up again, "Murial, you want a cheeseburger or something?"

I started to make my way toward the door. Just before I made my escape the guy carrying a 50 pound bag of dog food crossed in front of me. Just caught a whiff - like to knock me down. Might have been his deer hunting outfit doused with 'Buck Lure' or it might have been too much time with his dogs.

Either way I was thankful it weren't me they was complaining about.


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