Monday, August 30, 2010

do they give cart lessons...

I can't decide which I like less, driving cars or driving carts. Actually, what I should say is: I can't decide what I like less OTHER people driving cars or driving carts.

There is a measure of expected irritability when it comes to driving a car, I suppose. I expect that some people are going to be atrocious drivers and do ridiculous things, but I guess I don't expect those same people to park their cars and follow me into Costco and agitate me with their carts.

Do all the people with awful cart etiquette shop at Costco or is it just that the carts are colossal so it seems worse than it is?

Last Saturday I went to Costco in Lehi. It must have been substandard IQ day that I didn't know about but I have never been so annoyed by people and their carts in all of my life!

As I'm walking in the door there are at least 6 women with their carts jutting out in all directions looking at the stuff they have lined up against the wall. Right then I wanted to scream "hello, there are like 5 billion people trying to get in the door, move". But, I contained myself and pressed forward.

I don't know if you're like me but in every store I go into I have a subconscious pattern that I follow. I don't mean to do it, I just go the same way every time I go to Costco. I guess my subconscious doesn't dare deviate from the path so I continue to blindly follow it. So I'm walking down the main aisle, back to the produce/fridge section and as I'm walking back a 7 or 8 year old kid is pushing his little brothers in the cart and people are literally pulling out James Bond maneuvers to get out of his way. I did NOT move and instead let him come within inches of hitting me, gave him a bad look and continued on my way.

Then I happened into the sample area. I don't think there is a sample of anything that could make it worth going into the madness that is the sample area. I swear people will wait around for a half an hour just to get a free sample of American cheese or half of a frozen cream puff. It's bad enough to have 39 people crowded around a card table waiting for a bite of something but then there are those people who see the sample, leave their cart in the middle of the aisle and walk to the next 4 tables without returning to retrieve their carts. It kind of makes me want to steal their purses or push their cart to the other end of the store.

Also in this same heaven-forsaken area of the store there are those people who are walking along and then make a dead stop in the middle of cart traffic without even slowing down first or gradually drifting off in another direction. I've nearly had to sacrifice my children and my internal organs to prevent myself from ramming someone in the back and chipping off their heal bone with the front of my cart.

Don't even get me started on the circus show that is the food court at Costco. Without fail, there is always that person who tries to push a fully loaded cart while balancing 2 slices of pizza in one hand, a chicken bake in the other and 3 drink cups with a churro in their mouth. I don't like making 2 trips as much as the next guy, but don't try to be a super hero my friend.

And finally, there is also, without fail, that person who is by them self, has one thing in their cart and has seated them self at a table for 8 right on the perimeter of the eating area - and has taken up completely good cart space and a completely good table.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

do I have to listen for another 30 years?

There is a certain person in my life *mom* whom I love but who has this horribly annoying habit. My mom and I have known each other for nearly 30 years now and EVERY SINGLE time I eat with her, at a restaurant or in her own kitchen, she HAS to comment on the way I eat. And, not only comment but say it like it's the first time she's ever noticed and the first time she's ever said anything about it.

I don't like tomoatoes. Never have. Unfortunately for me, tomatoes come on just about everything! I try to be vigilant about 86ing the tomatoes whenever possible but sometimes, I forget. It's not like I don't want to like tomatoes, my taste buds just won't allow it. And people *again, mom* always say, "there is nothing like a tomato picked right from the garden". So, every year I plant a few tomato plants and every year I try a tomato picked right from the garden and EVERY YEAR I nearly ralph on my shoes. It's a vicious cycle I see repeating itself for at least the next 30 years, just has it has for the last 30.

Still, every time I'm with my mom and I have forgotten to axe the tomatoes, she acts like I have just committed a felony. "Oh Emily, tomatoes are delicious, how can you not like them, there must be something wrong with you". Seriously, EVERY TIME.

I'm not a picky eater, I SWEAR I'm not...but I am very particular about eating meat. Some people have no problem chewing meat off the bones, gristle and all - I am NOT one of those people. Whenever I cut into a piece of meat, I inspect it for fat, veins, under-doneness or anything else that looks like it doesn't belong in my stomach, not to mention my mouth. So, every time I eat meat, I laboriously cut away any fat, cut around any veins, stab it with my fork, hold it as close as I can get it to my eyeballs and find only the most perfect parts. I also have a "discard" pile which is generally larger than the "intake" pile. I've always been this way. Again, I don't see this one changing any time soon. I don't imagine there will come a time when I'll just say "oh that piece of meat has veins and blood and fat seeping out of it, oh well", and shove it in my mouth.

And again, EVERY TIME I eat meat around my mom she acts as though this is a new habit I've conjured up, one that she's appalled at and never seen before. Moreover, she proceeds to me and anyone around (which usually happen to be my dad and husband who are VERY aware of the way I eat meat already) that I'm being ridiculous and I should just eat the meat. I don't know what she's complaining about, when I'm done digging through my meat, I always share my discard pile with her.