Subject:    Shopping!
Date:       Fri, 22 Sep 2000 15:43:38 GMT
From:       Riboflavin D. Monkey <thisdoesntwork@hotmail.com>
Message-ID: <8qfun4$3s7$1@nnrp1.deja.com>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo


As mentioned yesterday, I went to the grocery store. This was not the
normal shopping trip. No, actually it was. Anyway, here is the crap
that I go through to feed myself so I can entertain the rest of you
yahoos.

But first, some background. The store I went to is called "Meijer."
Named after the owner, of course. Since most of you have probably never
heard of the place is basically like Wal Mart with a giant grocery
store attached (I have seen some Wal Marts with giant grocery stores,
but they are not around here). I also went after work, which was my
first mistake. So to get things rolling...

SCENE 1: THE PARKING LOT

I pull into the parking lot in my M-1 Abram tank with Anti-Air missles
and promply run over three old ladies, seven children not looking where
they were going and at least five "troubled youth" wearing very pretty
gang colors. I fire my anti-air missles to get rid of the black
helicopters that follow me everywhere. They'll be back, and in greater
numbers. So I meet my half-cousin, Paddycakes at the front of the
store, who hands me my tin-foil hat so that "The Man" cannot find my
location in public places. Or use their evil, evil mind control rays. I
also put on my purple cape.

SCENE 2: THE ENTRANCE

Paddy and I walk into the store, where there is a "greeter" up front
who looks me up and down, grunts and looks away. I go to grab a
shopping cart, where the "greeter" tells me that, "This cart is not for
you. In fact, none fo these carts are for you. Please go away." I give
a subtle tail signal to Paddy, who promptly beat the "greeter" until he
blubbers incoherently, I take a cart and proceed further into the store.

I realize I forgot my shopping list and hop back outside where I am hit by
a bus. Luckily, since I am made of coconut and am immortal, I merely
bounce from the grill of the bus with a comical "boing", and attempt
again to return to my Abram. I find my list. I need the following items:

  Bananananas
  Bagels
  One of everything Puce.
  Baby Diapers (for the munkette, not me)
  Baby Food
  Various cleaning products which may or may not include "Chemical X"
  Sugar, spice and everything nice.

I return inside the store. The "greeter" is still mumbling incoherently
and swaying back and forth, almost tipping over entirely, but not quite.

SCENE 3: The Battle

So I feverently try to relocate myself, the cart and Paddy to the baby
item aisle. In the process only 27 people get injured and 1 killed
entirely. Well worth the expense. There I find the diapers. Only one
package left! I notice this just as Soccer Mom comes around the corner.
We immediately take battle stations and she begins to show off all of
her soccer and Kung Fu moves. I shoot her with my improbability cannon.

I grab the diapers, but notice that the food is not located here
because I am not in the food section. Food is only in the food section,
which is probably why they call it the food section. So I proceed to
the food section where within that, I find the baby food section. The
casualties are much lower, although I had to throw a handicapped person
through the roof because their wheelchair was quite an inconvenience.
My prehensile tail is quite strong, you know. No other incidents
occured in obtaining the baby food.

SCENE 4: SQUEAKY CLEAN

I reach the cleaning aisle, which for some reason is in the middle of
the food section. This, I do not understand but I shall save that for a
later date. I pick up stuff to clean my shower. (Monkey fur really,
really stinks when wet. Worse than a dog) Paddy picks up a few other
things, although I really wan't paying attention. But apparently he
also threw a midget in the cart because he said, and I quote, "That
little midget is really, really cute." I wasn't in mood to argue. I
picked up some laundry soap (All Free and Clear, for those taking
notes), which I accidently drop and laundry soap overs the whole aisle.
Suddenly, the soap begins to bubble and turns into a giant suds monster
who starts eating all the other shoppers. I shrug and pick up another
bottle, careful this time not to drop it. I continue.

SCENE 5: IMPATIENCE

I manage by this time I got everything else on the list, except for the
bagels. Even though I have discriminating tastes, I do not feel like
stopping and an actual bagel bakery, so I go down the bread aisle.
Unfortunately, there is a Jew in my way, standing in front of the
bagels screaming, "OY! SHOULD I GET THE CHEAP BAGELS OR THE GOOD
BAGELS! OY! I CAN'T DECIDE. WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME?" I should
also mention that this Jew is not Sergey. Hey, you know my money is
green? Because the jews pick it before it's ripe! I heard that on Stern
yesterday. Anyway, back to the story. I zap the Jew with my zap gun,
and he runs away screaming "OY! IT HURTS! OY! OY!" I grab my bagels and
proceed to check out. Only 58 casualties total for this shopping trip
(not including the people that the soap monster ate -- wasn't my fault.)

SCENE 6: THE NEVERENDING CHECKOUT LINE

Now I'm waiting in line to unload my groceries onto the moving-counter
so the cashier can scan them so I can purchase them and take them home
so I can use them for their appropriate uses. While I'm waiting a grab
a 40 of Colt 45, because I like Billy Dee, from the "On your way home"
bin. I'm behind an 85 year old lady who bought nothing but depends and
Banquet frozen dinners. So I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.

The old lady (henceforth: Hag) is watching the cashier skeptically as
if she's getting ripped off. "Hold on," she says to the cashier, "That
last meal is on sale for 1.99. It scanned up at 2.30."

"Okay," The cashier says and picks up the phone to page someone in the
food section. No one answers. She tries again.

"Give her the damn discount," I growl, "Lest you fell the wrath of the
mighty RIBOFLAVIN!" The cashier looks at me with this curious and
slightly frightened frown, and rings the meal up for 1.99.

"Any coupons or bottleslips?" asks the cashier to the hag. The hag
hands her a fistful of torn papers. The cashier rings some through,
some won't ring thru, so the cashier pulls out a pair of glasses, and
as slow as someone possible could, puts on the glasses, stares at the
coupon for FIVE MINUTES, shrugs and hits some keys. She slowly puts her
glasses away again and continues to try to ring coupons through. The
soap monster is now starting towards the checkout lanes as it already
ate all the customers in back. Another coupon fails to scan, so once
again the cashier pull out her glasses again, unfolds them one arm at a
time, and raises them to her face again, tilting her head back to use
the bifocals, and stares at the coupon for another five minutes.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but this here coupon says that you must buy TWO of
the Chicken White Meat and Rice meal to get this $0.55 off."

"But I did buy two dearie. Here, I'll look in the bag." As fast as the
decrepit old hag could move (which wasn't very fast, of course), she
fingered through the slim boxed of frozen food, where she only found
one. "Oh, dear," she says, "I'm afraid that I'll just have to get
another one." She begins waddling back into the store to pay another 2
dollars to save her another $0.55.

"But it doesn't matter. She won't be back," I snigger, eyeing the soap
monster. I turn to the cashier, "Hey, can you ring me through while we
wait for her to return?"

"No, I'm afraid not," says the cashier as she studies me while trying
to look like she's not. She completes her sentence in disdain with her
saying, "Sir. You'll just have to wait."

Fury is building inside me. Never in my simian life have a felt this
much anger. I want to kill this cashier. I want to break her neck right
in two. I want to wrap my prehensile tail right around her bloated,
flabby neck and crush her windpipe. Through clenched teeth I way,
"What's her fucking total?"

"47.86," says the cashier.

"Here's fifty fucking dollars. Keep the goddamn change and ring up my
FUCKING GROCERIES!"

She does, quietly, contemptfully, and I hope, fearfully as well. Paddy
is preparing to throw p00pie, as any good half-cousin will do.

The bill is totaled, I give the the proper amount, since my clearly
superior primate intellect can calulate change faster than most of you
wretched humans.

As the cashier begins to package my groceries (since all the baggers
are took lunch at the same time), I disgustedly throw all my groceries
back into my shopping cart the stomp (actaully, bounce) back to my
"car". After I finish loading my "car", I hear a low rumbling coming
from the building. The windows are covered with soap suds, and their
starting to give. Paddy and I jump back into the abram and speed away.
I giant mushroom-cloud of suds reaches into the sky. Is seems that the
soap monster ate too much and spontaneously combusted.

"We really cleaned that store out, eh, Paddy?"

We laugh.

THE ENB

--
Riboflavin D. Monkey
A.K.A. Uncle Sal No Nose Lucchesi
"...man, if I had a nickle for every
 penny young Lots found,
 I'd be five time richer than him."
- Captain Infinity

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