I don't want no freakin' bath care, I want soap. OK, maybe you think I need bath care, that's tough. I want soap. But I can't find the soap at CVS. I know it's in there somewhere, but I can't find it. So I had to go to the big grocery store on the edge of town.
Which may be just as well, because while I was there I bought a really good sandwich roll for lunch, or not as well because now I'll have to go back and get another one some day. Nothing ever just comes out even, does it? Would that be too much to ask, just once in a while?
Anyway, while I was there, I discovered the big grocery store on the edge of town has one of those self-scan checkout lines now. It was empty. I got in one of the other lines instead. Which is weird, when you think of it (not that I'm suggesting you do, understand) because I'm usually the first guy in line for the latest toy and also because I read a story on queue management this morning, in the NYTimes, I think (and yes I am too lazy to go look it up) so that kind of thing was on my mind. But I figure there has to be a line drawn somewhere, and maybe this is it. (Or not it, as the case may be.)
And it's cheap. Because the store where I usually buy groceries isn't likely to get a self-scan checkout line anytime this century. And it's educational, because standing in the checkup line is how I keep up to date on what's going on with Brad.
And other things, like hearing a nice New England woman tell the cashier she's enjoying the cool weather today but she knows she's going to get punished for it later, when the heat arrives. Nothing good ever happens in New England unless followed by punishment, you can count on it.
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