"A great many people now reading and writing would be better employed keeping rabbits." - Edith Sitwell
"In 1936, Safeway introduced a money back guarantee on meat."
Safeway is the absolute worst. Last night at 1:20am I drove to the White Center location to buy three bottles of Freixenet, two boxes of Vinta crackers & some moderately fancy cheese. A third of the store was cordoned off by some yellow caution tape and there were puddles of liquid in random spots behind the tape. The cheese I wanted was on the other side of the tape and I couldn't understand why a grocery store was keeping me away from products. I stepped over the tape (which is no easy feat given my runty stature) and approached the premium cheese island when I was interrupted by a booming voice. "Hey asshole," a person in a Safeway apron shouted. "You can't be back here!" I couldn't believe that person called me an asshole. I couldn't believe I couldn't buy cheese. I pleaded for 20 seconds to get what I wanted, but I was told that the floor was being stripped and the fumes were very dangerous. When I was checking out I told the cashier that the other person had called me an asshole. "Oh, that was probably Alan," the cashier responded. "He's really grumpy."
DISCLAIMER: This installment of Caperin’ is pretty long. Don’t bother reading it.
Okay, everybody totally lied to me. When I was deciding between moving to Austin or Seattle, I was told that while the sky is mostly always miserably depressing in Seattle, it hardly ever snows and that everybody in Austin is involved in roller derby. Oh God, the snow isn’t even what I’m talking about. You see, when all of that snow came down last week and people were just driving straight off of the road, I got really hungry. Lately when I’m hungry I either want a Firecracker sandwich from Smarty Pants or Triscuits. The household was nil on Triscuits and I was informed by the roommates that driving to Georgetown from South Park would be a four hour disaster because officials from the city had essentially banned driving. I thought they were joking of course, but it became apparent as we drove down Corson (or Bailey or whatever road that is) that it was true. The Emerald City Goon Squad seemed to be waving all traffic coming the other way into the Taco Time parking lot instead of onto SR 99 South. We were in luck because there was hardly anybody on our side of the street. Said luck came to a halt when we entered Smarty Pants and were greeted by the Joseph Goebbels of bar service, who informed us that he’d sent the cook home “because the weather was bad.” Then he briskly informed us that they didn’t even have chips to eat, and that even if they did we wouldn’t be welcome to eat them there because he hated people and had decided at that moment to question his career choice of working with the public.