Tag Archives: Supermarket

This Is Not My Dad!

Google images: livinghealthyonline.wordpress.com

Google images: livinghealthyonline.wordpress.com

Little Biffy was sitting in the shopping cart one day while I selected groceries from the shelves. He was contentedly playing with his Taser when he looked up at me. I’m not sure if a demon entered him or if his nascent sense of humor was blossoming, but he suddenly screamed out:

“You’re not my Dad!”

I was shocked and dumbfounded. My mouth hung open and my eyes bulged, because I am his Dad.

Biff looked to the right and the left. “He’s not my Dad!” he screamed. “He’s an imposter!”

“What?” I hissed. “Biffy, what are you talking about? This is not a good joke! We’re in a supermarket!” I grabbed his little chin to emphasize his need to hush.

The woman by the breadcrumbs turned. Her brows furrowed and she squinted grimly at me. I looked at her, trying to appear innocent.

“He’s starving me!” Biff continued. “He won’t feed me any nourishment!”

The woman started searching her purse for her cell phone.

“Biff! Just because I told you that you can’t have another chocolate quarter-pounder doesn’t mean I’m starving you! You just ate two bags of caramel corn in the car!”

Biff started pounding his little fists and kicking his feet against the wire cart.

“Don’t crush the egg noodles!” I shouted.

By that time a crowd had gathered. Over the loudspeaker I heard, “Security to fruit juices for an incident…”

Biff had put me in an uncomfortable predicament from which I could not easily extricate myself. Next to Biff’s ear, I whispered through gritted teeth, “Tell these nice people I’m your Dad, or you’ll never get to watch Halloween 5 again!”

Biff laughed. “Just kidding,” he told the crowd. “He really is my dad. I just enjoy seeing him sweat!”

Yes, Biff’s sense of humor began to flourish that day in the supermarket aisle. When he turned thirteen, I made him join the circus.


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Photographing Goof

Google images: mikeblake-myopinions.blogspot.com

Google images: mikeblake-myopinions.blogspot.com

My friend Ed dropped me off in front of the supermarket. Ed and I were going to go do some Saturday sportsmen stuff. But first I had to pick up a plantain and some Cocoa Puffs for my wife.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I told Ed.

“That’s fine, I’ll just wait for you over there in that parking spot by the shopping carts.”

“Okay,” I said.

I found my plantain and Puffs, and I picked up a bug light, just for good measure. Then I walked to the front of the store to pay.

When I got there, I noticed that all of the cashiers had deserted their registers and were lined up side by side, looking out the plate glass window into the parking lot. I looked beyond them and saw Ed’s car with the front door open, but I did not see Ed.

Moments later a police car drove by the window. Ed was sitting in the back seat, staring straight ahead sheepishly.

“What could have possibly happened out there in the parking lot in the short time it took me to pick up a plantain, Cocoa Puffs, and a bug light?”

Gloria, the cashier from register 5, told me the tale. “That weird guy who the police took away was photographing shoppers in the parking lot. An old lady came in here and told us employees, and we called the cops.”

Oh great, I thought. Now Ed and I won’t be able to go turkey warbling, and I’m stuck here at the supermarket without a way to get home. But when I walked to Ed’s car in the parking lot, I saw that he had left his keys in the ignition, so I drove to the police station.

I visited Ed in jail. “I was just trying to figure out how to focus my new camera,” he whimpered. “And then the cops came and slapped me in irons.”

“Well, Ed,” I said. “You know you have to be extremely careful these days who you look at. Some elderly woman thought you were photographing her plastic bags. Too bad you weren’t focusing on a flower or a grackle instead of a supermarket patron.”

“But she was on the other side of the lot. I didn’t even see her! Really! I’m innocent,” cried Ed.

“Sure you are,” I said. “Well, the prison guard said that your trial would be in three weeks. I understand cell block 8 is one of the better locations here, so I guess you’re pretty lucky, really.”

“Thanks a lot, Blair,” said Ed.

“I’ll be back again to visit on Wednesday after my Brazilian samba class,” I told him.

As I left the prison that day, an officer arrested me for sticking my chewing gum on a parking meter.

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