Annapalooza

It’s Been a Ruff Week December 8, 2013

I mean, you seem to go out of your way… to try to make me feel like a complete idiot…every time I see you, and you really needn’t bother.  I already feel like an idiot most of the time anyway- with or without a fireman’s pole.

– Bridget Jones, from Bridget Jones’ Diary

 

When your week starts out with an emergency purchase of wine and twelve-pack of mini Lime-a-ritas, you know you might be in trouble. This was almost as bad as my gas station purchase the week before, which consisted of a four-pack of cheap toilet paper, a huge-ass can of Lime-a-rita (damn you Anheuser Busch for inventing those things) and a lottery ticket. All I needed was a can of Skoal and I was in the running for the Trashiest. Purchase. Ever.

 

It all began with an innocent lunchtime walk down the street, to a cute little bakery and sandwich shop. I put in my order for a Thanksgiving Leftover sandwich, which was basically yum-tastic goodness consisting of turkey, lettuce, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes all on stuffing bread. Did I mention the mashed potatoes?

 

Now before I go any further, let me say that this place is famous for giving out samples. You walk in the door and there is a smiley worker tempting you to try one of five different delicious breads, or maybe a cookie or a muffin. You could get into some serious carb overload if you aren’t careful. So it was no surprise for me to see a huge basket of little cookies by the register as I paid for my sandwich. The cookies were in all different holiday shapes like gingerbread men and snowmen and various characters from The Twelve Days of Christmas. I was very happy to have a little snack as I waited for my sandwich.

 

I turned and proceeded to take a bite. Into the hardest, most flavorless cookie ever. Unless…

 

Yup, I had eaten a dog biscuit.

 

I nonchalantly threw the rest of the “cookie” into the garbage.

 

Funny, it didn’t smell like a dog biscuit. It was hard as a rock, sure, but to me it just looked like any other gingerbread cookie. And surely they wouldn’t put a whole basket of these cookies by the register without a sign.

 

Oh, wait.

 

At second glance, there was a sign. Only it was pasted up against the side of the register, so anyone standing there could not possibly see it until they walked away. “Holiday Dog Treats, 25 cents”, it read.

 

Great. Not only had I eaten a dog biscuit, but I was a thief, too.

 

On the bright side, my teeth and coat are super shiny. But in the meantime I am going to kill the aftertaste with this Lime-a-rita.

 

 

 

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