Thursday, December 4, 2008

One of Those Days


I got everything we needed at Trader Joes. Wine, some fizzy water, toothpaste, and Tania loves this new blood orange Italian soda they have. I got everything pretty quick. It wasn’t very crowded. I got in line. The lady at the next cash register was open so she said, “I can take you here.” I wish I hadn’t moved. So I pushed my cart over and while I was taking stuff out of the basket—POW! I’m covered in liquid. The fucking shopping cart didn’t have one of those child seats in it, so the whole back of the top basket was open. And when I disturbed the contents, one of the bottles of carbonated Italian soda fell out. It hit the ground standing perfectly straight up. It didn’t break, but the force caused the carbonated insides to blow the top off causing a geyser of blood orange soda to shoot straight up in my face. It was like someone held a hose in front of my face and turned it on high. More than half the bottle came out and I don’t even think that much of it made it to the floor. It hit me in the face, it got in my beard, it got in my hair, it was all over my shirt, it even got in my armpit, and my pants were soaked.

“One of those days, huh?” the girl said after everything settled down and we began the checkout.

“No, it’s not,” I said, “it’s actually been a pretty good day so far.” I wasn’t hungover, I got up kind of early, I was getting shit done. Then not even two seconds after I said that, while trying to punch in my pin code, I lost control of my wallet and the whole thing emptied out all over the floor. Money, cards, receipts, everything. All over the place. A couple cards even went into the puddle of sticky soda.

The guy who was cleaning the mess was all, “Wow, everything’s going wrong?” He said it while looking suspiciously at the Gentleman’s Beer Drinking card which, of course, landed face up. I was like, “NO, IT’S NOT ONE OF THOSE DAYS!” But it was. It had become one of those days.

I somehow made it out of there and went to Ralphs to get firewood. Tania said she’d trade a blowjob for some firewood. Prices have gone down, apparently. Of course the parking lot is packed, people are honking at each other, so I find a spot on the roof lot. After a short search around the front of the store, I find the wood. The bundles of wood are stacked ten feet high. No exaggeration. And nothing within reach will budge. It’s like a big Jenga game. I go as high as I can and start testing the bundles. None will budge and they all threaten to bring the whole pile down if I keep touching them. I finally settled on one that I thought I could get out without toppling the whole tower. Guess what happened?

It was indeed one of those days.

[Note: this story was originally an email to Tania that I wrote right after all this happened. You know, just like a funny story, a little gift, to my wife in the middle of the work day. Next thing I knew, I was getting all these emails saying, "OMG, THAT WAS SO FUNNY!" Apparently instead of sending it to TANIA I sent it to the group THE GENTLEMEN. It really was one of those days.]


Anonymous said...

Did you at least get the blow job?

RyGar said...

Shit, way to tough through it all. I usually get into punching things (my head, walls, the car, other peoples heads) when things go that awry. As much as I love Trader Joe's, I almost never go there, because they are all so tiny and packed with imbeciles. Granted, I usually go to the one on La Brea, in Hollywood.

Unknown said...

blow jobs?: affirmitive

dudes, dave makes it sound like he is so deprived, but don't believe him. i have never ever been stingy the the bjs. ask anyone.

elastic back said...

It is always one of those days at either of the TJs in NYC, especially the Union Square one. I try not to go there much due to the fear that I will lose it and spoil the uber-chipper moods the employees always pretend to be in. NO, I DON'T WANT TO ENTER THE RAFFLE! I want to enter the store, buy the 5 things I came for and get out without having to swim upstream through yuppies and without having to wait in line for an hour.