Had a late lunch with "B" the other day. My delicious turkey sandwich, served on wax paper, was rather generous, so I decided to take half home.
As I prepared to ask the sandwich server for a transport bag, "B" said:
"Do you really need a bag?"
"Well, yeah, I'm taking it home".
"But do you really need a bag?"
Am I not enunciating? Is "B" going deaf?
"Yes 'B'," I replied, "Unlike you, I didn't scarf down my entire sandwich, so I'm taking the uneaten half home, which means I need a bag."
"B"'s normally cute eyes began to glow.
"Do. You. Really. Need. A. Bag." This time there was no question mark.
I finally got it.
"Ohhhh. Right. You're asking if I need a bag, but you mean, 'can't you transport the leftover half sandwich in the wax paper, YOU GLOBE-WARMING, RESOURCE-SQUANDERING, LANDFILL-FILLING, WASTEFUL WASTREL?'"
"B" put on her "prissy teacher-who's-just-launched-a-teachable-moment" face.
This project is either going to deepen our friendship or end it.
In my first entry/introduction, I mentioned my weakness for UFO's, the delicious mint chocolate disks sold at Trader Joe's that I like to eat in a very specific way* every night.
At any rate, unbeknownst to you dear reader, the UFO's have been out of stock for weeks, months, years even! Okay, just weeks. But weeks that have been filled with near daily phone conversations like this:
Them, all happy sounding:
"Thanks for calling Trader Joes."
Me, furtive whispering:
"Are they in yet?"
Them, impatient sighing:
"No, Ma'am. Have you considered therapy?"
Me, furtive loud whispering:
"I'm in therapy! What the hell do you think I talk about every week?!"
So, yesterday I re-worked my strategy, deciding to drop the harassing phone campaign for a surprise, in-person shelf scan. First though, "How can I use this for my blog?" Ah yes, DON'T DRIVE, that old chestnut...
I changed into sensible shoes and, 20 sweaty minutes later, beheld this most beautiful sight: groaning shelves of UFO's! My feelings of joy and triumph were, I'm sure, similar to climbers of Mt. Everest.
Call it "my old testament god" or "my karma" (or "my craziness"), but I am convinced that, because I did the right thing to combat global warming by walking instead of driving, I was divinely rewarded with this cosmic manifestation of my favorite treat.
* Lying in bed reading, I balance a small robin's egg blue colored bowl holding 12-UFO's on the bedcovers and eat the disks one by one, sucking them down into little flattish balls and then gently biting them into a final melt of deliciousness in my mouth.