The weekend in minor:
The Who Dat won. Why Dat?
Younger, faster, more aggressive. More hungry also.
For the past week I’ve been hounding my Post Mistress about the cable bill. I have not, I maintained, received it. Tired of waiting I queried the provider. You’ve paid your bill, Sir.
Called the bank for a special statement.
Sure enough. I’d paid the bill, Sir. And forgotten to log the register.
I’ve skipped the eggs for breakfast the last two days.
I set aside a link for a blog. The link was specific to the Health Care/Child Production/Progressive Side of suburbia. The writer made a very coherent case for limiting births. I wanted to share the conversation with my readers.
I aborted the endeavor accidently.
I suppose I’d make a lousy father.
From photo share:
Thursday, last week, I journeyed to the grocery store. I deliberately counted out six bags of bite sized Milky Bars a neighbor wanted for a visit upcoming. Her family and their kids were coming into town, and she estimated that was the requirement for three days and twelve zillion grandkids.
On return to the village, I stopped by her house first. We found I’d returned with four bags of the candy. Looking at the receipt, we found that I’d been charged with five bags.
Friday, last week, I journeyed to the grocery store and sought out the owner. The owner happens to be the owner of the Pharmacy I wrote of the other day (and posted pictures).
I told her of my adventures with her check out clerks and my candies.
Sunday, the owner of the Greasy stopped by. His daughter had been terminated as the check-out clerk at the grocery.
He thanked me.
I had no idea she was a relation.
I am not sure that had I known I’d have done much differently – malfeasance being what it is.
I’ve examined the situation, and I’ve pretty well concluded that because the girl is the daughter of the sister of the near neighbor, of whom I have written, that I was the subject of family retribution and inconvenience.
Oddly, the retribution cost the grocer two more bags of candy and was of little inconvenience to me as I only stopped in on the way to the bank for personal business. Personally, I’d surmise the near neighbors family takes things personally.
Shady folks should not take things personally. My opinion, of course; personally speaking. But then, I have noticed drug dealers/some users take set-backs personally.
The shopping business reminds me; I must go to the liquor store and make the tobacco purchases for the guys in the area.
Damn. It’s been a bad week for forgetting things.
Oh! I almost forgot. PS sucks. Lost forty-four cents.
Can’t forget that.
I’ve written down a name. On a sticky note. I’ve pasted it to the light shade. I’ve also put it on a computer sticky note. It is the one I’m looking to regain my forty-four cents from.
If I don’t forget what the name means.
I notice I didn’t put the reason with the name on the stickies.
I’ll not forget.
From the reaches,