Super Bowl

Okay, I made a quick stop at the "Metro Mart" for half and half on my way to the office. I like that name, for a product, Half and Half, what else has a name like that? But I don't like being addicted to it. Every new years I make a resolution to only drink black coffee, but that lasts like a month, two weeks, and then it's back to cream, milk, whatever. This year I didn't even make the attempt. I don't know, maybe THAT'S progress.

So, in this particular store they have hidden the quarts of milk all the way into a tight closet size corner for some reason, like it's condoms or something, or Robitussin. Nearly every time I go there I have to wait for someone picking out their damn quart of half and half, checking all the dates, you know. On this morning, there is like NO ONE else in the grocery store, but there's a woman in this phone booth size cubby hole, picking up one after another quart, looking at it, while talking on her cell phone. Maybe checking with her husband, reading the dates to him, seeing if he approves. I stood and waited for her. Then another guy came up and didn't have the patience to wait for her so he pushed in, grabbed a quart. The woman realized that TWO people were waiting for her and scurried away like a cockroach, if you can imagine a cockroach talking on a cell phone. THEN the MAN started looking at EVERY quart, lifting up his sunglasses, while I waited. I very nearly, then, pushed his head through the glass cooler door. I don't know why, maybe it's these dreams I've been having. But I contained myself, grabbed a quart, and marched to the cash register where another woman was buying a pint of orange juice with a credit card.