Grocery Stories

I used to bag groceries in the Red Apple Market. My primary responsibility was shoving as many roast chickens, cereal boxes, cartons of ice cream and cow parts into one bag as humanly possible. When people started complaining about their bags ripping, my manager Larry shrugged and told me to tell  those eco-terrorists to go fuck themselves.

Sometimes I recorded announcements. " 2 for 1 Ham Special. Strawberries $1 off. Pigs Feet. Free."  Larry thought I had a voice for television.

Once a year we had a car show. I auctioned grocery coupons and judged the doggy fashion show.

Once a week someone defecated into their hand and smeared it on the bathroom wall. "Sydney, clean up on aisle...in the bathroom, Sydney clean up in the bathroom. Again. Sorry."

My co-worker Marsha took a loaf of rosemary bread home every day, put it in the oven and then ate the whole thing with butter.

Stacy had been in a grocery store commercial 10 years earlier, but didn't have a tape of it and Jose played the trumpet in a local Mariachi band. They never had to clean up poop.

Years later I found myself in a different grocery store in a different city searching for Oregano. I was squinting at the labels of every bottle, digging through to see if maybe it had been shelved incorrectly, and knocking them to the floor as my search became more desperate when suddenly a store clerk approached me and asked what I was looking for.

Me: Oregano.

Him: I know it's here somewhere.

Me: Maybe you're out of it.

Him: No. It's here. Don't give up.

Me: Okay.

Him: It's hiding from us. But soon it will pop up.

Me: And it will say "Hi! I'm Oregano." Hehe...

Him: What?

Me: Um...

Him: Oh. Oh, I see. Nice to meet you Oregano, my name is Nathan.

Me: Oh no, my name's not...

Him: Actually, you can call me Nate. People call me Nate because I don't have to compensate. If you know what I mean. *wink*

Me:.............I don't....

Him: Here it is.

Me: Thanks.

Him: If you need anything else...I mean anything like a cucumber or a banana...

Me: Those aren't in the recipe. I'm making a casserole.

Him: Well, if you need a long, hard spoon to stir it with...

Me: I have a spoon.

Him: A Zucchini?

Me: No.

Him: I have a big dick.

Intercom: Nate, clean up on aisle...clean up in the bathroom, Nate clean up in the bathroom. Again. Sorry."