Friday, September 28, 2012

A Tale of Two Rite-Aids

I went to the closest Rite-Aid because I was all out of milk half gallons, and they seem to have good turnover in their milk half gallons, so I probably wouldn't be faced with a shelf full of soon to be expired milk. And I thought a frozen pizza would hit the spot too. Not an expensive one, but a somewhat cheap one. That's why I go there. That was the plan. I needed some cash first.

I stopped at my neighborhood ghetto liquor store to use the ATM, which nobody but me ever uses. A large man was using it. So, I bought an Arizona iced tea with the dollar I had in my pocket and waited for the large man. The large man got confused, by all the buttons, I guess. I left to use the ATM at my local Shell station

I got some cash. I said “Hi” to the clerk, whom I slightly remembered as the clerk who worked there.

Now on to the Rite-Aid. It's in a vaguely ghetto part of town, but that's where I live. A large SUV was blocking two spaces, so I pulled into a spot that was a little tight, because the Mustang guy parked a bit in the right of his spot. I didn't have much room to open my door and at that point I noticed the gangster in the Mustang passenger's seat. He was listening to some gangster music with loud bass.

“BOOOM. WHAAAP. BOOOM.”

All of it sounds the same. I carefully extracted myself from the car so as not to hit the gangster's Mustang with my car's door. I figured it would be smart to avoid getting shot in the groin.  Gangsters love to shoot guys like me in the gentlemen's area. I cupped my hands over my Johnson and went inside.

I was immediately confronted with 7-10 people impatiently waiting in a crudely formed line.

This can't go well.

I quickly spun to the left and exited. I was inside a total of one second. I carefully re-inserted myself into the car, so as not to get shot, and drove to the next nearest Rite-Aid. Each Rite-Aid carries the same inventory so I should have no problem. Upon entering the store, I was immediately confronted with a woman walking towards me. She moved to the left. So I moved to the right. Then she darted to the right. I moved to the left. This went on a few more times.

She grabbed my arm and said that she grew up in a family of 14 and something additional gibberish about, “Always being in somebodies way.” I guess she must have issues from childhood still bothering her and I look like her therapist.

The important thing was the milk so I can have my late morning bowl of cereal. I always get the milk half gallon with the red top. They didn't have any milk half gallons with red tops, but they had some milk half gallons with blue tops. They expired tomorrow. There is no way I can use an entire half gallon by tomorrow. Milk is a disgusting thing to drink so I don't drink it. Unless you're a baby you don't need it. This Rite-Aid was also missing the entire selection of somewhat cheap frozen pizzas too. So I drove back to the Shell. They have milk half gallons with red tops.

I said “Hi” to the clerk whom I slightly remembered as having worked there and he asked about my Saab. I don't have a Saab, but I played along.