I hate to shop. I hate to shop, because that’s exactly when SINthia, my evil twin, decides she needs to be seen and heard. (If you haven’t been corrupted by SINthia yet…run..or click here to met her.)

I go SINthia goes grocery shopping once every two weeks with a list a mile long that I have made from a planned menu. If she has a plan and cash she usually spends less money. Usually. She supposed to make three stops, the meat market, Aldis then Wal-mart. Typically she makes those three throws in a couple thrift shops, a garage sale or two and gets home when the milk is about to curdle from the heat. All she thinks about is herself.

If you’ll remember, it was a shopping trip that made her come out last time when Russell got thrown in jail and she came screaming to his rescue. 

Well, just the other day, it happened again, she showed up while I was out doing my bi-weekly shopping trip for groceries.

On this particular day, I had been dodging these foreign speaking out-of-towners, who had more than once stood too close, leaned over my cart to grab some veggies etc… Folks,  crowding someone, when that someone is fairly mentally unstable and is used to a lot of space (like acres to herself) is not the best thing to do anyway. But, SINthia let it slide until the check out line.

I had to wait for three other carts to go through a head of me, then I started unloading. In life there are a few things that have unspoken rules. You don’t pee into the wind, you always pray before you eat, and never I mean NEVER unload your groceries until the person in front of you is done unloading.

Evidently these two bowing, smiling foreigners had missed this nugget in green card class. I had only unloaded the bottom part of my cart, when they set their fruit, veggies, and three bags of pork rinds on the belt, while bowing, nodding and smiling a fake courtesy smile. Grrrrrr.

“Ma’am. Ma’am. Please, take your stuff off the belt, I need to unload my cart.”

Smile-nod-bow. Smile-nod-bow. NOTHING.

So I SINthia pushed their veggies back in to the fruit, sending a cucumber rolling off the belt. Little miss nod and smile caught the flying veggie no problem and turned and whispered something foreign and low in said companion’s ear.

I filled up the small space I had created and said again,  louder this time, and with more authority, “Ma’am. Ma’am.” (Sis being ignored.) “ Hey. You, need to pick up your stuff. I need the space.”

They were ignoring me.

“You do it now, or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Smile. Nod. Bow. Whispering in foreign language behind a hand. Nothing. NOTHING. 

The look on my face was enough to send snickers and some knee slapping through the huge crowd of people waiting to check out behind us. That’s when the dam broke, in more ways than one, and the checking began.

If you have ever been to Aldis you know they keep there prices down by having patrons rent carts for 25 cents, bag their own groceries and pay in cash or with debit card. Speed and simplicity is the name of the game there. Slow, non-responding foreigners just don’t get it.

I was standing there with visions of having to hand the checkout lady one item at a time out of my cart, when SINthia absolutely twisted off.

Like some crazed kamikaze pilot, she took her whole arm and slid the veggies into the fruit SMEARING the vine ripened tomatoes on the belt, SMASHING the bananas into the canned goods, sending the cucumber flying…again, and finally crashing everything into the pork rinds. The three bags turned into pork powder just before their carefully chosen goodies started falling off the edge of the belt. My short nodding, bowing, smiling friends contorted, bending over backwards trying to catch, juggle, and otherwise save their smashed and powdered loot before it all hit the floor.

“When in Rome…you do what the Romans do.” I said louder than I wanted to.

The belt stopped, for the first time in Aldis history…

Crickets chirped. The hollers of foreign anguish were muted by the carnage covering their mouths and were drowned out by an old man who was bent over laughing and slapping his knee so hard I thought he was going to loose his false teeth and his overalls. The rest of the onlookers were sent into hysterics by the whole ugly scene and the foreigners whispered wildly while picking up their mess and giving me their best stink eye.

The checker was nervous and wondering if NOW would be a good time to poke the little red button. SINthia was pissed. The rest of the folks looked like they were at a comedy club with a two drink minimum. People were laughing, some holding their crotch, while others leaned on their carts and some on each other in complete hysterics.

“WHY DON’T YOU SAVE THAT LOOK FOR SOMEONE WHO’S IMPRESSED BY IT…..I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU ARE WHISPERING…I CAN’T UNDERSTAND A DAMN THING YOU’RE SAYING, ANYWAY….”

The checker was at a loss and couldn’t think of anything else to say but, “How are you doing today?”

I didn’t answer.

As I was loading my car the two women shuffled quickly to their car as I sang, “Everybody was Kung Fu fighting” at the top of my lungs. 

While I was driving away the old man was making his way to his car, still gut laughing and a waving with one hand as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the other. Glad I could make his day.

Thank God the kids weren’t with me. How do you explain Kung Fu fighting is a bad choice at school, but it’s just fine at Aldis?

HiiiiiYa!

Sandhill Sis

SINthia

PS. Woooo doggies. We did have them high-stepping for their cars after schooling them in American shopping etiquette. After all was said and done, I drove Sis straight to Karate School (while her adrenalin was still flowing good) and signed her pansy ass up for some classes in case those pork rind loving gals ever return to Aldis.  Then I took her cell phone, called my bookie and told him my money was on Sis, at the next match, two weeks from Friday. Let me know if you would like to get in on this deal.