So yesterday Yenny and I went over to Costco to sow our American consumer roots. Yes she is American too – despite reports that she struggled with ESL classes early on. (In a moment of weakness she once told me she flunked into the class to get the juice they were offering).
At Costco we debated the quality of every product to appear on my grocery list. Chicken? Do you want Perdue Chicken or the Kirkland brand lowbrow fowl offerings? I would say Kirkland, and throw the 30 lb item into our cart as she did that soft-eyed editorial look she has so perfected. Light bulbs were on our list and I was tired of shopping for necessities at that point – I was physically drawn to a box across the aisle that was labeled “the Ultimate Spy Kit”. Yenny would not leave the bulb aisle and kept wanting to debate the benefits of bulbs that were ‘energy efficient’. Little spiral bulbs that promised to last 7 years – but I had fallen for that once (twice) before and was only really in the market for the iconic ‘globe bulb’ of my yesteryears. I guess they don’t even make those any more. I shot down her argument about energy efficiency when I was known to historically leave every damn light on in the house for no reason at all times. She needed to start the argument a few steps closer to the home source. We are not a green home.
We got a massive bag of coffee beans - based on nothing more than an attraction to the packaging. It was a red matte metallic bag with some sort of tribal graphic on the front. It promised that if we consumed the contents – that we would immediately be cooler (on the inside). Or maybe that was my take.
Well after checking out with our hundreds of dollars of “necessities” and avoiding people whom I’d previously met (but not remembered names of) in the store, we searched for and found the coffee grinding machines.
I like to use machines. That much is obvious. I like interacting with machines that do different tasks. It makes me feel evolved. So while yenny was debating whether our coffee would be tainted by another persons grinds already in the machine – I struggled to open the space-flight ready bag. It took me no less than 10 minutes to open the bloody bag of coffee beans. When it finally gave way I was at the service counter about to beg for scissors – but instead just being ignored. Once open the beans kinda flew everywhere. It was a mini coffee bomb. I clutched it to my chest and ran back to the grinding area where Yenny was packing the groceries “correctly” as her Chinese father had instructed her as a small child. (We had the EXACT same upbringing). I dumped the beans into the second of the two somewhat identical machines only to realize that these machines were designed to accommodate MUCH smaller bags of beans. Second bean explosion. I quickly opened the lid of the other grinder and filled that one as well. Yenny is yelling at me.
Y - “Why didn’t you just leave them in the bag?? Now we have a secondary infection in the flavor of our coffee! We’ll never know what the coffee is supposed to taste like now. It will never be the same! There will be a weird unknown flavor in TWO levels of our grinds!”
H – “oh shut up and help me! You are the big fagg that goes out and BUYS those retarded raspberry chocolate trifle flavored bullshit beans – you are likely to enjoy it MORE! Just start grinding!”
Well it seems the grinder that we chose was dealing with some sort of pre-existing arterial fibrillation issues and only ground beans at the rate of what one mouthful could crush at a time. And the beans were oddly slimy. Kinda grossed me out. But shit it was ours – it was going to be ground hell or high water.
About 45 minutes later we left the store pretty much covered in bean grinds. And the smell was so sickening that we each agreed we had no interest in having coffee for at least two days. We needed to put the event behind us.
Most all of our shared domestic errands end this way.
Currently I am at a coffee shop writing this.
Yes I realize I have 3 tons of coffee waiting for me at home – but I don’t want to touch it. And I needed coffee quickly since I am just getting over my first Parent Teacher conference for my spawn. It is being suggested that he has attention deficit disorder. After listening to the teacher and the guidance counselor explain it all to me…I think I might also have this disorder. I got bored in the middle of their heartbreaking speech. My child is fine. Sure he hits people with his metal lunch box – but it really does make an amazing sound on impact. And as far as his not wanting to come in from recess – we hello…who DOES want to come in from recess? Shit I don’t. I will agree that he has the attention span of a gnat…and we will work on that. But I see him as a totally normal 5 year old that has a mother that is aspiring to roller derby and likes to paint pictures that look more like ink blot images for psychiatrists. I turned out fine.
So I’m sure they will be prescribing him something too in the near future. <sigh>
I blame Yenny.