Sunday, April 30, 2017

A Little Pick-Me Up

Okay, complicated personal pun coming up.

A few days ago, I was doing some basic grocery shopping. I bought some stuff I was running low on (or what I figured I should stock some more of). I bought some Tomato sauce, some Pizza bits, and Raisins in a box. However, my backpack was getting pretty full on account of filling it with so many books, and I was worried about getting the pages warped from the frozen Pizza bits.

So I piled most of the smaller stuff on top, and the top-heavy stuff near the bottom.

When I got home, I was horrified to find out that the zipper in my backpack (where I was carrying everything) had unzupped (I know that's not a real word, but it should be) to the point where my books fell out.

I was extremely nervous about the prospect of having to retrace my steps to find anything missing. Fortunately, none of my library books were gone, and I put my Pizza and Tomato sauce away.

It was only later that I realized that I forgot about the box of dried fruit that I put on top, and that must've fallen out from behind me.

In other words, I lost my Raisins through my Derriere.
Normally, the story would end here, but it turned out there was more to tell.  I posted the above on Social Media, with little reaction from my small circle of friends.  My family was more receptive, and two days later, I got a text from my Mother saying she was out shopping, and asked if I wanted any raisins, and wanted to know if I'd gotten any more.  I gave her a reply... one hour later.  By then, she was no longer in the store.

Later, my Father confronted me, saying he had something interesting to tell me, and asked me an unusual question: Did I happen to lose a box of Raisins recently?  Because when he went out to get the mail, he noticed that there was a box of Raisins just sitting on top of the mailbox, where I went a few days earlier.  He figured, "Hmm.  Somebody's lost their Raisins.  Good thing it wasn't me."

It was only later that he heard the story from Mom that I posted earlier, that he put two and two together, and figured that two missing boxes of Raisins was too much of a coincidence.

Incidentally, I looked around that same area a day later, but was looking more at the ground than on any overhead flat surfaces, figuring that if anybody happened to chance upon a gift of free food, they'd jump at the opportunity to make it their property.  But our neighborhood is so safe and offense-free that no one bothered to steal a container of sweet dried fruit.

So basically, I knew that a box of Raisins fell out of my backpack, and so did my Mother.  My Father knew some books fell out, but didn't know about the lost Raisins, since he doesn't frequent online opinions much.  He also knew that there was a box of Raisins on the mailbox, but didn't think it was mine.  As he said later, we all had bits of information, but we hadn't quite put all of them together.  Very much like those Soap Operas where characters do foolish actions due to complete misunderstandings.  And you're mentally screaming at these characters for not revealing their innermost thoughts.  "SHE LOVES YOU, YOU IDIOT!!  CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?!  ONE SIMPLE PHONE CALL COULD RESOLVE THIS WHOLE STUPID SITUATION!!"  But the audience has the luxury of knowing what the cast doesn't know, and being aware of the conventional cliches the players are totally blind to.  It's not that smooth in real life.
So, my Dad went back to the Mailbox to see if the Raisins were still there.  (Spoiler alert, they totally were)  He joked that since they were out in the sun, they'd been dried even further.  Though the moisture from the plastic casing when it rained the other day probably offset it somewhat.  Even though they'd been out for a good two days, they still tasted pretty good.  A simple matter of rewashing the wrinkled grapes and putting them on a plate to dry off was enough for me.  I paid a good $4.00 for these Raisins.  I'm not letting them go to waste.

And by total coincidence, today is National Raisin Day.

No comments:

Post a Comment