Grocery stores are a death trap full of loose women and fast talking men. I casually walk into my local Winn Dixie. Yes, they are still hoping that the south wins the war. I think no one told them it is over and they lost. I am doing my weekly grocery shopping. I usually do not shop on friday afternoon, but as I am on my spring break, I thought what the hell do something crazy.
And then it all goes down hill. I need spaghetti sauce. To make spaghetti, obviously. As I look over all of the options, I spot a new brand on the top shelf. I can barely control myself. I love trying new things especially ones that are just out of my reach. I am standing on the tip of my toes. The sauce is two jars stacked on top of each other. I know this will end badly, but I just can’t stop myself. I get one jar and two fall off. I am certain they will shatter as they hit the floor, but luckily they land on my foot, and roll on the ground.
The manager runs over to see if I need help. Sure, now that I have been attacked by your sauce you want to help me. Then two young gentlemen decide I am in need of their assistance as well, telling each other they better watch out I am dangerous. This is why you can’t forget your wedding bands when you go to the store.
I limp away from the sauce aisle. Hoping and praying I didn’t break anything. And every aisle there they are telling me oh its the dangerous girl. Yes, me and my jean shorts are dangerous. You better watch out I eat pain for breakfast.
Naturally, I tell them I am on Spring Break and it is about to get crazy up in here.