Busted at the Bakery
Let me begin at the beginning. I hate grocery shopping. Some of my happiest years were when Publix experimented with online shopping. Those were my glory days. I’d go through the cyber aisles, choose my items, checkout and the next day they would magically appear at my front door. The wonderful young men in green would not only put the groceries in my kitchen, they would place them strategically. Brown bags meant non perishables; those were put next to my pantry. The plastic, well, that meant refrigerate; so of course they were placed on the counter top next to my refrigerator. I nearly cried a couple years later when they decided it was not a profitable venture.
I digress. On today’s shopping extravaganza, I said to myself, “Self, is there anyway I can get through this hateful place and make it more fun?” As I pondered this challenging idea, I wandered through the aisles. More truthfully, bulldozed is more like it. Dodging, ducking and trying not to run into all the lovely elderly ladies who, bless their hearts, move at a snails pace. I do always smile and chat with them and try to give them a little laugh. But still not enough to distract me from the tedious task at hand.
Finally, an “ah ha” moment hits! There are things that are interesting here. Perhaps I can find something to snap a picture of for the Beautiful group. Okay, now I have a mission. Now the mundaneness of the outing becomes a challenge.
So, what do I find beautiful at the grocers? Ice cream, always go for the ice cream but as happy as it makes me, not so picturesque. As I travel through produce, collecting what seems to be every item in the department, it hits me. Around the corner and straight ahead. There it is. I nearly hear the angels sing. The smells are enticing me. Slowly I approach.
Mecca, Nirvana, call it what you may, I stand in the middle of the bakery. Surrounded by cakes and cookies. Enveloped by the sweet odors of Danish and freshly baked bread. I have arrived. Gingerly, I pull my cellphone out of my purse. To my left, colorfully iced cupcakes, snap; to my right a case filled with the most exquisite looking cakes, snap and snap again! Here it is. This is where a grocery store is Beautiful. Pleased with my find, I slip my phone back into my purse.
From behind I’m approached by a woman in a black hair net. All the other bakers are wearing white. Hmm, this can’t be good. “What are you doing?” she asks in a stern voice. I stare at her, bewildered. “We do not allow pictures to be taken in the store.” I fumble with lame excuses; “I need to show these pictures to a friend, so we can decide which cake we want.” “We have all the cakes on our website,” she informs me. Am I accused of grocery store espionage? Is she about to call security? Sheepishly, I mumble my apologizes and run for the check out. Watching my back, I exit the store. Relieved to have made a clean getaway, I head to my car. Smiling to myself smugly, I had my pictures and an adventure.
I arrived home with a big grin on my face, my husband asked me what was up as I usually arrive home from the grocer’s, shall we say, a tad sour. I quickly relayed the story of my near escape from incarceration. To which he laughingly replied, “He who turns and runs away, lives to run another day.” Just saying, doesn’t take much to amuse us.