Baby rides 1917 carosel while dan queues behind 1901 customer
25-04-15 16:46 Family Humor
It seemed like a simple (but very important) project:
“Just pick up some baby food,” Nazy had commanded. “Come back right away. He’s hungry.”
Because this has happened before, I knew exactly where to go and what to do. Baby food and diapers (you never want to run out of diapers) in hand, I entered the short queue at the express checkout lane. One person, an elderly lady who, I confirmed, did not have blue hair, had completed the checkout; she was paying. The other patron, directly in front of me, just wanted to buy a single energy drink.
“I’ll be home in a JIFfy,” I thought. “I wonder if we need peanut butter?”
The elderly women was writing a check. It seemed, however, that the coordination needed to manipulate the pen (a Bic&trade
was not among the the traits that this customer possessed. It actually appeared that she was trying to write with the wrong hand. And, since she had not mastered cursive writing, I wasn’t sure how she’d handle the signature. Eventually, however, she finished the check and was ready to pay the $38.14 bill.
I relaxed. In error.
“Oh!” She said. “I tore the check in half. I guess I forgot to tear along the perforations.”
“The perforations are in your ‘brain’,” I thought
She began writing another check - not noticing that the continent that she was standing on was drifting faster than the ball point pen she was wielding. Eventually, she finished and somehow managed to dislodge the check form the checkbook without simultaneously ripping either in half.
“This,” the cashier noted, “is a check for $14.38. The bill is for $38.14.”
“Oh my!” the lady replied. “Let me do it again.”
Naturally, she had trouble locating the checkbook in a purse (roughly the size of North Carolina) that was filled with a collection of medication bottles adequate to stock an inner city medical center. She wrote a check. Again.
“Be careful when you tear it out of the checkbook,” I cautioned.
She handed the check to the clerk.“This check is for $38.05,” he noted. “You are 9¢ short.”
“Here is a dime,” I said.
“You are such a nice man,” this nonagenarian shopper replied.
I smiled. “I’m only nice if you leave.” I thought, as she gathered her purchases and her widely scattered thoughts.
Now there was only one person in front of me: a student who wanted to pay 83¢ with a debit card. But he couldn’t remember the PIN code. And he didn’t have any cash. But he said that he had a scratch-off winning ($5) lottery ticket.
“.. in my wallet somewhere,” the student noted. He found it. Eventually.
“It’s your turn,” the clerk stated as the student walked away.
“Finally!” I agreed. “But now the baby has outgrown this version of the baby food,” I thought.
This week we also treated Jamsheed, the grand(est)son, to a Santa Barbara outing. We went to Chase Palm Park near the beach. A 1917 Allan Herschell Carousel is at the park.
“He likes his rocking horse, Dan.” Nazy observed.
“Wait until he sees the Carousel!” I replied.
It was an unseasonably cool day when we..
Reader Interrupt: “An unseasonably cool day? In Santa Barbara?”
In fact, temperatures this week were below normal. It was about 65℉ (18℃) and (gasp!) cloudy when we drove to the beach. Nazy even insisted that we find a warm jacket for the grand(est)son. The carousel was a nostalgic work of art. Because of the weather, we were the only people riding the carousel. The ride was fun and surprisingly long.
“It wasn’t long, Dan.” Nazy interrupts.
“It wasn’t long for you, my dear, because you were riding a horse. I, on the other hand, was standing up, holding the baby in place as his horse went up and down.” I replied. “Up and down and round and round,” I thought.
“Just pick up some baby food,” Nazy had commanded. “Come back right away. He’s hungry.”
Because this has happened before, I knew exactly where to go and what to do. Baby food and diapers (you never want to run out of diapers) in hand, I entered the short queue at the express checkout lane. One person, an elderly lady who, I confirmed, did not have blue hair, had completed the checkout; she was paying. The other patron, directly in front of me, just wanted to buy a single energy drink.
“I’ll be home in a JIFfy,” I thought. “I wonder if we need peanut butter?”
The elderly women was writing a check. It seemed, however, that the coordination needed to manipulate the pen (a Bic&trade
was not among the the traits that this customer possessed. It actually appeared that she was trying to write with the wrong hand. And, since she had not mastered cursive writing, I wasn’t sure how she’d handle the signature. Eventually, however, she finished the check and was ready to pay the $38.14 bill. I relaxed. In error.
“Oh!” She said. “I tore the check in half. I guess I forgot to tear along the perforations.”
“The perforations are in your ‘brain’,” I thought
She began writing another check - not noticing that the continent that she was standing on was drifting faster than the ball point pen she was wielding. Eventually, she finished and somehow managed to dislodge the check form the checkbook without simultaneously ripping either in half.
“This,” the cashier noted, “is a check for $14.38. The bill is for $38.14.”
“Oh my!” the lady replied. “Let me do it again.”
Naturally, she had trouble locating the checkbook in a purse (roughly the size of North Carolina) that was filled with a collection of medication bottles adequate to stock an inner city medical center. She wrote a check. Again.
“Be careful when you tear it out of the checkbook,” I cautioned.
She handed the check to the clerk.“This check is for $38.05,” he noted. “You are 9¢ short.”
“Here is a dime,” I said.
“You are such a nice man,” this nonagenarian shopper replied.
I smiled. “I’m only nice if you leave.” I thought, as she gathered her purchases and her widely scattered thoughts.
Now there was only one person in front of me: a student who wanted to pay 83¢ with a debit card. But he couldn’t remember the PIN code. And he didn’t have any cash. But he said that he had a scratch-off winning ($5) lottery ticket.
“.. in my wallet somewhere,” the student noted. He found it. Eventually.
“It’s your turn,” the clerk stated as the student walked away.
“Finally!” I agreed. “But now the baby has outgrown this version of the baby food,” I thought.
This week we also treated Jamsheed, the grand(est)son, to a Santa Barbara outing. We went to Chase Palm Park near the beach. A 1917 Allan Herschell Carousel is at the park.
“He likes his rocking horse, Dan.” Nazy observed.
“Wait until he sees the Carousel!” I replied.
It was an unseasonably cool day when we..
Reader Interrupt: “An unseasonably cool day? In Santa Barbara?”
In fact, temperatures this week were below normal. It was about 65℉ (18℃) and (gasp!) cloudy when we drove to the beach. Nazy even insisted that we find a warm jacket for the grand(est)son. The carousel was a nostalgic work of art. Because of the weather, we were the only people riding the carousel. The ride was fun and surprisingly long.
“It wasn’t long, Dan.” Nazy interrupts.
“It wasn’t long for you, my dear, because you were riding a horse. I, on the other hand, was standing up, holding the baby in place as his horse went up and down.” I replied. “Up and down and round and round,” I thought.
Last week, I drove to Los Angeles for a strategy meeting with the Oxygen Tango team. Normally on these trips, I drop Nazy off at the premier outlet malls, an upscale but heavily discounted shopping area in Camerillo. This time..
“You don’t want to go shopping?!” I asked. Shocked! Concerned! Astonished! Discombobulated!
“I don’t want to get up early,” Nazy replied.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“I want to go shopping with you, Dan. I don’t want to go shopping alone.”
“Shall I call a doctor?” I thought. “If you go shopping with me, there will be a spending limit.” I noted ¢orrectly.
“You need some new jeans and gym shoes. I can’t get them without you.”
We went shopping later in the week. I now have some baby blue sneakers, a pair of white blue jeans and a neon yellow workout jersey. (I’m responsible for the jersey.)
For last week's letter, click here
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