The following account is completely true. (In my opinion)
My company’s Thanksgiving potluck lunch is today. So, I spent yesterday baking pumpkin cupcakes and apple pie. This story is not about that. It’s about what happened when I went to the grocery store to buy all the baking supplies I needed. It was a blistery night. The stars at night were big and bright (clap clap clap clap deep in the heart of Texas. – You might only get this if you’re from Texas. If you aren’t from Texas then just keep reading and accept there are some things you will never understand about this blog). I was at the grocery store late to avoid the crowds. Little did I know, I wasn’t alone.
Actually, I knew I wasn’t alone because, duh, I was at a grocery store. But that sounded more ominous than “there were at least 2o other people there, oh and also some ghosts.”
The ghosts were waiting for me. Waiting to turn my night into a confusing nightmare. I walked in the store with my grocery list in hand. Somehow, I suspect it was the ghosts, time sped up and I found myself in an aisle completely alone and without a grocery list. Panic took over. My entire 2 hours with that list flashed before my eyes and I couldn’t help but reminisce about the time in the fruit aisle when that list saved me from buying only 4 apples when I needed 8. Desperately, I searched for my list. It wasn’t in any of the usual places, my purse, my pockets, my shoe. I paced up and down every aisle, looking for where I might have accidently set my list down and walked away from it. How could I have taken such advantage of it? Why did I have to lose it to appreciate it? Then I realized, something else was afoot. I’m not usually that forgetful. Never before have I lost a list. I stopped right where I was and, like Sherlock Holmes, used my logic to solve the mystery of the kidnapped list. The answer was so simple. Ghosts.
There was no other explanation. It had to be ghosts. But what had I done to offend them? How could I contact them to discuss the return of my beloved list? Apparently, they weren’t in the mood to communicate because no matter what I did, no matter how many times I screamed out loud, or spoke in tongues, or did the “We need to talk” dance, they wouldn’t answer. I’m only left with one conclusion. The ghosts who haunt my grocery store are the ghosts of former hooligans who take the greatest pleasure in tomfoolery. My guess is that the grocery store was built on some kind of graveyard that was reserved for hooligans. Way to think ahead grocers. Everyone knows you don’t build things on graveyards.
What else could I do but continue shopping and leave my list behind never to be seen again? I had to move on with my life. If the situation was reversed I would want the list to move on. The hooligan ghosts win this time. I have a game plan for next time though and without going into too much detail- it involves slingshots as peace offerings.
I share the story to warn you of the dangers of grocery store hooligan ghosts. No one seems to have ever talked about them before, and I can only assume that is because people are afraid. Well, I’m not. I want the world to know that grocery store hooligan ghosts exist. I’m like a crusader (except this isn’t religious and I certainly won’t be killing anyone). I am the Norma Rae of the grocery store hooligan ghost industry. You’ve been warned. Tell your friends.