Yesterday afternoon, I was at the supermarket. Shut up. I
know it seems as if I’m always there. I’m not. It’s just that that’s where I get
my best ideas. If it makes you feel any better, I did not have in hand a latte
of any type, seasonal or otherwise. Caffeine too late in the day makes Wendy a
very cranky lady. Joyously hyper at first, but cranky the next day, after not
getting a good night’s sleep.
ANYFREAKINWAY.
I was at the market and I saw a guy with a dog in a
shopping cart. That is, the dog was in the shopping cart, in the front
section traditionally reserved for little kids. The guy was pushing it. This was a small dog, but not
that small. It was probably about twenty pounds, a Bichon Frappe or something
that sounds like Starbucks’ next seasonal drink. The dog was big enough to be
highly noticeable, especially in a place where there is food.
I was in the checkout line with my groceries and two of the cashiers were talking
and said that was the third dog they’d seen in the store
that day. Note: These were not “working” dogs. They had no jackets identifying
them as gainfully employed. No hard hats or briefcases, either.
One of the cashiers told me I should write my next newspaper column
about it.
OH HELL NO.
I’ve written about controversial stuff before, but no way
am I getting into animal lover vs. animal hater territory. Although, years ago,
I interviewed the (well-known activist) father of a
young crime victim (in a highly-publicized case). We talked about there being a
bigger reward posted for a dog that had been thrown into traffic due to road
rage than a little girl who had gone missing around the same time as the
dog-throwing incident. I wrote a column about it.
Dogs-in-supermarkets is a much more benign and less scary
topic, but I bet there are plenty of people who would be quite vocal about
anything I wrote, whether I said it was OK or not OK to put Fluffy in the shopping
cart. In a place where there is food. I dunno. It’s just kind of hard for me to get past
the food part.
Then again, you can’t catch a cold from a dog. You can get
all sorts of yucky stuff from humans. Humans are gross. I have a grandson who
always has an orange mustache due to excessive Cheeto consumption and, often,
a booger stuck somewhere on the side of his head, so I can understand why people would be
OK with dogs in shopping carts.
Oh. Sorry. Forgot to warn you that I was going to use the
word “booger.”
I’m not sure what my next column is going to be about,
but, trust me, it won't be that.
Commercial time: I'm giving away a copy of my novel I MURDERED THE PTA. Go to Goodreads and enter the contest!
I seem to recall seeing a similar incident here too, but what really gives me the heebee jeebees (not that the dog in a supermarket doesn't), is seeing children barefoot in restaurants. I used to work for a podiatrist and trust me, you *don't* want to go there.
ReplyDeleteFYI, I used to be a latte person (skinny no foam, extra hot) but the counter guy turned me onto Americano (doesn't that just sound ridiculous?). Have you tried that?
I had a kid who, as a baby, hated to wear shoes. We found out years later that she had a congenital foot deformity and needed surgery. Then again, I wouldn't let her run around in a public place without shoes. Yuck. Gross.
ReplyDeleteHaven't yet had an Americano. Is it coffee that doesn't taste like coffee? Because I'm a huge fan of artificial flavors.
Alas, it is just coffee but a very smooth blend at that. My coffee must have milk or cream but I've never been keen on flavored coffee. There goes my theory we were separated at birth. LOL
ReplyDeleteAw, I'm sorry about the coffee thing. But also flattered that anyone would even imagine being my twin!
ReplyDelete