I have three true food
vices. That means when I splurge/binge, it's usually on one of these three things.
And, I make it a point not to bring these in the house as I have zero control
and will eat the whole thing in no time flat, so it's a special treat.
#1 is a bag of
wavy lays and a tub of french onion dip. Even though I don't like sour cream
(the main component in the dip) nor potato chips.
#2 is a package of
regular Oreos (not double stuff or the ones with colored cream or those weird
vanilla flavored ones) and ice cold, whole, vitamin D milk.
And the 3rd is frosted
animal crackers (also good with vitamin D milk but not required as with #2.)
I went to Target one day last week at lunch (although it was more like 2
pm) to grab a few items in between meetings. I had been in endless meetings all morning, hadn't
had lunch, and was starving. Target took forever. I remembered a couple extra items I needed to get and they're understaffed at the checkouts during the day. I was zipping through
the grocery section when I saw these on an end cap:
The serving size is three cookies.
Ha. This was going to be my lunch and my "mother-of-the-year" award for Army crawling into the last week of school. I threw them in the cart and my mouth began watering.
Checked out. The woman
was forever slow. Slow and trying to small talk about my stuff and I'm thinking, "Look lady, I've gotta get back for a meeting and the faster I have to
drive, the fewer of these I'm gonna be able to shove in."
Got to the car. Had to
park a mile away as I didn't have the luxury of driving around and looking for a
good space. Got out in main drive and was just about to pull out onto the main road when I unscrewed the lid and saw the paper/security top
had been peeled back and partially removed. :( They'd been opened (and possibly
eaten).
I stared for a half
second wondering if the five second rule applied. Wasn't I going to do the same
thing? Did this perpetrator actually save me time? Uggh, no. It was some dirty
kid or some high employee looking to steal a snack back in the stock room or
some demented terrorist trying to take down the American public, one frosted
animal cookie lover at a time.
So I turned around
and drove back up there completely deflated. I parked in the fire lane and
ignored the ugly stares from fellow shoppers. I ran in to customer service with my jug o'
cookies and my receipt. In my mind, I pictured them being so apologetic that
they would offer me a lifetime supply of frosted animal cookies or, at least,
to go back and get another tub so I didn't have to go myself.
Instead, when the man
finally moseyed up to the desk, he seemed completed unaffected by the whole
story, scanned my receipt, scanned the cookies, some paper shot out of the
register, and he handed it to me, mumbling, "it went back on your card.
Sorry about that." What? You just gave me a refund? No. I want the
cookies! I can't eat this receipt!
I looked across the store and at the far
corner where the grocery is (and my cookies) and knew I didn't have the time or
will to walk back, get another box, and stand in line again. I walked out to my
illegally parked car, feeling wronged by Target and the universe. Instead of my
cookies, I had a piece of gum on the way back to work. I swear I heard the
faint giggle of the saved calories.
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