And seriously, people, I am NOT a CRIER. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t even blame hormones, because clearly, I got that over with on Friday.
Anyway, a vignette:
Megan and I are in Harris Teeter, groggy and scamming free samples. We went in because I had a craving for lobster bisque (cream soup has been big with me, lately), and there was no food in her apartment. So we’re standing at the free bread display, slathering tapenade onto wheat, when this old blonde lady slips up next to me. I can tell right away that she’s the type to send back her soup because it’s not hot enough, and sure as I’m born she’s all “Ex-CUSE me” and barging ahead at the bread.
I decided she must be on some kind of Atkins-induced carb high and let it slide. Also, we’d spied some cubes of baby swiss over by the deli.
About ten minutes later, having eaten our fill of cheeses, we rounded back to the bread station and found the blonde harpy STILL STANDING THERE. Weird, right? By this time, there’s another woman in front of her munching on a slice and asking an employee if the bread contains wheat flour. Apparently, the query was too much for blondie to bear, because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, she opens her mouth and SHRIEKS:
BUT YOU’RE EATING IT!! There’s no WHEAT flour, I don’t underSTAND!! THERE’S NO WHEAT FLOUR!! YOU’RE EATING IT!!!
the second woman then says, nonchalant, “I can’t eat wheat flour”
BUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND!! You’re EATING it!! THERE’S NO WHEAT FLOUR!!!!!
and blondie storms off.
And my sister and I are like, woah. take a xanax, sweetheart, it’s not that big a deal. Then we hit the olive bar.