February 6, 2003 – evening

Yes, the grocery store is just as chaotic the night before a snowstorm as the legend suggests. Milk was almost gone. Bread was almost gone. Eggs were almost gone. If I had any shred of food left here, I wouldn’t have gone out. While at Genuardi’s, I took another step toward being aged.

I’m at the Deli, waiting for my 1/2 lb of Genuardi’s Italian Roast Beef, and I see two boys (about 7 and 9 I guess) hanging around the pickle barrel. One had the tongs in hand and was poking the pickles. The other was poking with his finger. I watch silently, merely disgusted and thankful that I buy pickles that are pre-jarred — sealed tightly against germy little fingers. Then, the younger of the two dips his hand INTO the pickle barrel, brings it to his mouth, and starts lapping up the pickle juice from his hand…pickle juice was trickling from his lips and hands BACK into the barrel.

That, dear Reader, was the last straw. I became an old lady.

“What are you DOING?” I call out to them. “You stop that NOW! People BUY pickles from that barrel!!” I must have looked like Satan — the little finks ran away, prolly back to their clueless mother. Ugh. Sick. If I owned the grocery store, I would have made the parents buy every pickle from the barrel. And sent the boys to live with Michael Jackson. 😉 (btw…Deli worker said nothing)

Once I got home and recovered from the trauma, I decided to make Minestrone Soup from a recipe I got in February’s RealSimple magazine. It was fantastic, and took less than an hour from peeling the first carrot to ladling it into bowls. The only drawback is that I have a LOT left — gotta find some containers. 🙂 At least I know what’s for lunch tomorrow.

Here’s hoping I don’t dream of pickles tonight.

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