From email@example.com Tue Dec 08 19:26:57 1998
Subject: Gore Me? Gore May?
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Mumthra)
Date: Wed, 09 Dec 1998 03:26:57 GMT
It's been an impulse kind of day. At around ten, I packed the littler
girls up and launched for the Faraway Gourmet. I had this inkling that
I could get something nice for a few people that I would like to get
something nice for. That includes myself, because I'm supposed to
remind myself that I'm just swell by spending money on things as a
reward to boost my sense of self worth high enough so as to mute the
later blow of the humiliation that I have overspent and overspent
I got some COOL SOAP, though! Sure, it cost EIGHT DOLLARS, but it's
largish for a bar of soap. It's black and marbled and it smells like
cloves and other things. I suspect that if I ever use it, I will be
eaten by birds. Other than that, my purchases were really far less
The baby and Spunky were amazingly calm. This may have something to do
with the protracted quarantine at home. They behaved like little lost
child people who had wandered into town from the wilderness with few
of their language skills intact--well, just like that, only on
SEDATIVES. Honestly, I didn't even give them an antihistamine. Still,
they goggled at all the rich people who were buying designer rye
breads and cookies and cheeses, and they pointed impolitely at
anything that looked like chocolate and said, "Ungh! Mwah!"
I agreed to let Spunky eat a Chocolate Santa Claus Head since she was
doing such a marvelous job of not doing anything awful. Baby Bo waved
at the candy clerk and somehow ordered up her own treat, a gummy worm.
he handed it to her with tongs, and I thought she just might push it
away. She confused it with food right away, however, even though it
was rubbery and translucent and showing wholly unnatural wobbliness.
Spunky, riding in the cart, was not overlooked by the nice man, and
she was presented with a few hard candies with jellied fillings and
other complicated abominations.
Spunky eagerly popped the first candy into her mouth while I was
distracted with the broken (unsweetened!) candy bars they were trying
to sell for something like fifty dollars a pound. I don't get it.
Spunky made a squishy noise. The squishy noise is never good. She had
spit the jelly guts of the noxious candy into her palm and made
several discrete PTOOIE noises.
Every now and then I remember why it is that I try to remember to
always bring at least one paper towel with me wherever I go with them.
I had nothing, of course, not even a helpful scrap of purse paper or a
bank receipt in which to put her "deposit."
Thinking quickly, I headed for produce. The elegant plastic bags were
just the thing, and although it's fairly difficult to wipe something
off with a plastic bag, I did a pretty good job. I did such a good job
that I bought myself a big bar of black soap as a reward for whatever
I can only think of it as Purchase Possession. Something OTHER came
over me after that. There was the soap, sure, but there was also the
escargot, and the artsy-stupid paper napkins, among others.
It always happens like that. The Faraway Gourmet always perverts my
good sense and leaves me with a tiny bag of goodies and a
ninety-dollar tab. By being expensive, it makes me feel cheap.
I think I'll stick to shopping at K-Mart. K-Mart makes me feel smug
Ho. Ho. Ho. http://www.radix.net/~revjack/mnj/storytime/christmas.htm