So I got up this Sunday morning, and, in a break from norm, I actually woke up before noon. I went to do my laundry, and realized that I was out of detergent. Now, I don't want to overstate things, but it was the end of an era. When I first moved Out East, four years ago, my parents bought me two jumbo economy sized things of laundry detergents. And they lasted all this time. It's a testament to wise purchases, value products, and my stinginess combined with my tolerance for funky-smelling clothes. I'd like to take a moment to acknowledge the wisdom of my parents, and their generosity in buying me such a gift.
But just a moment, though. Because as momentous as running out of detergent is, it's the acquisition of the new detergent that's the focus of today. I had a few options, in terms of places to go: there's a Sobeys about 3 k away, a Zehr's at the end of a bus route, and a Shoppers about a 10 min walk. The Sobeys I deemed too far for travel without a car, the Zehrs too time-consuming, and the Shoppers too marked up. So I went with option D: the Wholesale Club nearby, for those who, for whatever reason, do not have access to a proper Costco. I went to the store, and I bought a few extra things while I was there: a loaf of bread, a giant tub of peanut butter, and some lovely discount pizza pops. Mmmm. I debated buying a pack of Nibs, but eventually decided to err on the side of not buying candy.
Things took on a Kafka-esque level when I went to the check-out. There were three tills, none of which had more than one person at them. Easy, right? Wrong. I went to the first till, just in time to hear that the gentleman in front of me, purchasing $1000 of goods (!) had just gotten his credit card declined. "Well, jeez," he said, "the missus must have charged a few things without telling me. You see, we've got a bit of a windfall coming, but it doesn't clear till the end of the week, so we're a little short at the moment. And it's over, but I don't know how much over. What if we take off this item? No? well, what about this one? Well, I'll pay for some of it in cash, but I don't want to use all the cash on me, so I'll just use... hmmm...." I looked at his $1000 worth of items. I looked at my five items. I went to the next till. Unfortunately, during the conversation, or perhaps monologue, someone else had gone to the till, wheeling up in a full trolley of stuff. Till 3 it is, then. There, there was an elderly couple, debating on whether to buy two packs of plastic cups, or perhaps purchase a third, to get the price reduction. And then whether the bananas were on sale. And then they counted out their change, the last seventeen cents or so in pennies. One. By. One. Gah.
Honestly, it was like someone had decided they were going to put on a live performance of everything I hate about shopping checkouts. All it was missing was a screaming baby.
At least I got the detergent. Clothes, you shall be clean once more.
Later Days.
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