Hold my weave…

As much as I have a cute puppy and that makes everything in the world bubbles and roses, I thought I was going to cut someone today. A few people. LOTS of people.

I’ve been having a great weekend entertaining friends and family but decided to leave the apartment (and make-your-own martini bar) and do some shopping with the newf and a great friend in our local land of big box retailery. Mistake #1: shopping the day after stores were closed and the day before stores are going to be closed again.

We were doing very well, grabbed a great lunch and Starbucks teas with seven words in their names (vendi, caramel, non-fat, two awake teabags, misto, something something something – Sleeves, help me out here) and then headed to Costco. Everyone know what that is? One of those places that charge an annual membership fee to allow you to lose yourself in their football-field-sized world of mayonnaise jars the size of your torso. Mistake #2: thinking that I could handle large crowds jostling for bulk items at discounted prices.

Now, I should preface the following by saying that last night I slept on the sofa so that our friend could spend the night without ruining her back. As a result, I ultimately slept less than I would have. At this point in the afternoon, I was already getting a little egdy. Plus the tea was kicking in, making me more than a little keyed up. My caffeine intake is usually regulated. Okay, go on.

At the door, a teenager demands – think the gate to the Emerald City – to see all membership cards because, as we all know, Costco is Fort Knox and bulk groceries are not to be trusted to just anyone. Plus, checking membership cards when shoppers make their purchases is simply not enough. BULK IS SERIOUS BUSINESS! Our girl shows her card and waves us in behind her with the cart.

Here’s with things go wrong. Simultaneously, the newf pushes the cart and accidentally jams it on my heel while the membership police asks, “All together?”. This wouldn’t have been a problem had the flash of irritation and pain made my comprehension skills a little foggy. I hear, “Halt!”.

Sister please.

I shoot the newf a look to say, “is she expletive kidding me?”, and subsequently push my chains and Rolex into his hands so I don’t bust up my shiz while I’m teaching her a lesson in respect. I AM NOT SCAMMING MY WAY INTO BULK LAND! I AM PERFECTLY FINE BUYING PORTIONS BUILT TO LAST A MONTH VERSUS SEVEN! Luckily, while I was telling people to hold me back because lady don’t know who she be messin’ wit’ (Sorry, I watched Dangerous Minds right before bed last night and awoke thinking I was teenager from a troubled past with nothing to lose), she repeated herself again – but STILL with attitude, I swear – and I was able to let the newf handle her while I kept walking.

Over the course of the rest of the visit, a lady at the cash hit me with her purse because I was taking too long to remove myself from the line-up post-purchase, and another lady rolled her eyes at me while shoving me into a cart because she was in such a hurry. Meanwhile, the newf sees his arch-nemesis shopping there and immediately begins plotting elaborate plots from within his villainous cave. (The idea of having an arch-nemesis appeals to me but I think I’m too lazy. However, if forced to choose it would be the membership hag. When asked, the newf doesn’t even remember what started the animosity with his Moriarty, making the whole situation all the more authentic in my eyes).

We are then both taken home for launching into full-fledged Let’s Rumble mode using discount kitchen knifes purchased in packages of 76 varieties for all your cutting needs.