Grocery shopping is probably one of my favorite things to do. It’s something I usually do alone and after midnight. I think that I purposely go without making a list first just so I can stay there longer. Pammie hates grocery shopping, so she especially hates grocery shopping with me. Whenever she finds herself at the grocery store with me, she says, “We are NOT getting a cart, Mayan.” Psh. Like not having a cart is gonna shorten my grocery trip. Anyway, today I was cooped up in the house watching
Gossip Girl CNN. Pammie had already gone home to the OC, Rocky was busy being dramatic and sighing/tossing/turning on the tile floor, trying to keep cool in this unbearable summer heat. Alicia was with Ray at the fair watching War sing her all-time favorites (Lowrider and Cisco Kid LOL). Il Postino had not called, of course (le’sigh). I figured I could go to the grocery store and find something to buy. Even though I had just gone to Costco yesterday… and Albertson’s the day before.
I moved quickly past the cookie aisle so I wouldn’t stop and drool over all the calories I shouldn’t be eating. My graceful ass pushed the cart directly into the shelf, causing a few boxes of chocolate-drizzled rice cakes to fall on me. As I was picking up the boxes, for some reason at that moment, I thought about Ken from Pat & Oscar’s in Del Mar. I ate there once years and years ago. I remember everything about that day. I was wearing my baby blue New Found Glory shirt (that I’ve since retired) and actual shoes with laces. If you know me, you know I rock the Reef flip flops all year round. Hey, it’s San Diego… you can get away with that here. It mostly started because I’m one of those people who’s always late, so I never put my shoes on till I get to my destination and that day was no different. I was sitting on the curb outside Pat and Oscar’s tying my shoelaces and my ex-boyfriend was standing there with his arms crossed wondering why I didn’t tie my shoes anytime during the half hour drive to Del Mar and saying, “You shouldn’t be allowed to wear shoes with laces. We should get you some velcro shoes, Mayan.” I opted for flip flops instead. Anyway, I digress.
We’re eating dinner with some friends and I notice this really tall, really cute waiter named Ken carrying a huge stack of plates. He’s like whoa.. whoa.. and the plates are on the floor. I was watching the whole time and I started laughing, and he noticed me laughing and flashed an embarrassed smile my way. We were almost done with dinner and I mused out loud, “I think I want a cookie for dessert.” The cute waiter guy is standing nearby and walks up to me and was like, “You want a cookie?” and I’m like, “Ummm, yeah” and I get up to go get one at the counter and he’s like, “I’ll go get it for you” and I’m like, “Okay,” so it takes me like five minutes to dig through my purse for some change for the cookie (sidenote: in re-telling this story, I’m realizing how much I have NOT changed since then), and the guy comes back with the cookie and I hand him the money and he’s like, “Oh, don’t worry about it…” and I was like ok what. I never forgot him. Stuff like that just never happens to me, and that is probably why I remember it so well. I guess i’m just waiting for another Ken to give me a free cookie. Or at least help me pick up these boxes of chocolate-drizzled rice cakes that almost killed me. Someone to just do something nice for me… Gosh!
I always get involved with the same jerks. My therapist says that it’s not THEM, it’s ME. I can only blame myself for choosing the jerks over the nice guys. And by “therapist” I mean The Love Doctor from Channel 933. It’s the only thing on during my morning commute! I don’t know what it is about assholes that attracts a nice girl like me. Maybe it’s the sarcasm. Or the biting wit. Who knows, really. All I know for sure is how it always ends up. And that’s with me grocery shopping alone after midnight. Yet I still involve myself with these jerk offs. Some things never change, I guess… especially me.