You know, I believe I may just have to be somewhat insane to go into a tiny health food store located in a run-down little section of Queens and start haggling about prices with the Sri Chinmoy Cultist who stands, sanctimoniously pissy, behind the counter. But I guess I was at a low-ebb that day…
I have Chris and Herman in the car with me. The plan is to drop Chris off at the train station so he can get to work. But I've driven past this little shop a bunch of times and always meant to stop in, so today ends up being The Big Day.
First of all, since it's technically a NEW LOCATION, Herman the Incredibly Anxious and Neurotic Wonder Hound starts pounding full force on his window in the back seat as soon as I park and get out of the car. It doesn't matter that Chris is in the car with him. MAMA IS GOING SOMEWHERE STRANGE AND UNKNOWN, so Herm (in his typical fashion) screeching and moaning, continually hurls his full weight against the car window and door, like he's trying to escape from a gas chamber. He has behaved this way from the time he was 8 weeks old. Of course, THEN he was a mere 20 lbs. Now he's almost 6 years old and weighs closer to 120…
Chris: "I'm gonna take him out and walk him around while you're in the store."
Me: "Oh, Christ. He's gonna fucking freak, he's gonna wanna barge into that store with me. Just please stay here in the car with him until I get back…I'll only be 2 minutes…"
But my dear husband is already walking around to my side of the car to release our boy Herm from his self-perceived Eternally Mommy-less Prison.
NOBODY EVER LISTENS TO ME.
The street we're parked on is impossibly narrow for 2-way traffic, and cars are careening perilously close as Chris negotiates the tugging, grunting, salivating Herm away from certain death and onto the sidewalk. Complicated by the fact that the dog has recently had leg surgery and he's lugging around a huge cast to boot. Already I'm sick to my stomach from all this. Plus it's weirdly HOT and muggy for a day in early March, for chrissake.
I stand there in front of the stupid health food store, watching Chris and Herman wrestle around for the upper hand/paw.
Chris (clearly distraught): "WELL? Are you GOING IN or NOT?"
Me: "That was the plan. But what the hell are YOU TWO doing?"
Chris: "NEVER YOU MIND WHAT WE'RE DOING. WE'RE FINE. GO IN THE GODDAMN STORE ALREADY. I HAVE TO GET TO WORK, YOU KNOW."
Jesus. I go into the store, leaving man and beast out on the sidewalk to grapple and scrape.
* * * * * * *
As soon as I enter the store, I sense it's a mistake and yet I persevere. A woman enters right behind me, she's practically climbing up my ass and she has a gigantic parrot on her shoulder. Nice looking creature, the parrot, aside from the fact that it's screaming bloody murder.
The store is so cramped, it's a horrible layout honestly, and I'm just trying to put a little distance between myself and this banshee of a bird. The woman accompanying the parrot is a little skinny nut-job and she's wearing huge Yoko sunglasses and the exact same colors as the parrot: Bright yellow t-shirt, fire-engine red jacket over it, neon green bandana tied around her head. Honestly, how much frigging attention do you NEED, lady, to get you thru this life?
Parrot Broad starts yelling around to nobody in particular. With those shades on, you can't tell who the hell she might be addressing.
Parrot Broad: "YES, SKITTLES! I KNOW YOU WANT YOUR SEEDS!" She whips her head around like Stevie Wonder: "HE KNOWS THERE ARE SEEDS HERE! SKITTLES LOVES HIS SEEDS!"
She's got that much right, there are bins of seeds all along the entranceway of the store and it's sending Skittles into some kind of frenzy. And I'm such an ass - I always feel guilty, like I have to help matters along and respond to every lunatic that starts in.
I go: "Skittles is a good name for him…with his colors…"
Parrot Broad: "THAT'S RIGHT! AND DO YOU NOTICE THAT I AM WEARING THE SAME COLORS??? THE EXACT SAME COLORS AS MY SKITTLES???"
Me: "Ummm, yes. I did notice that…"
Indeed, I also notice that Skittles and the Broad have unnervingly similar screech - I mean speech - patterns. But I don't bother to point this out.
Parrot Broad: "IF I WAS 25 YEARS YOUNGER, I WOULD NEVER HAVE HAD THE COURAGE OR THE NERVE TO WEAR THESE COLORS! OR TO HAVE MY OWN PARROT! BUT THESE DAYS, I DO WHATEVER I WANT, WHENEVER I WANT. AND NOBODY TELLS ME WHAT TO DO."
Yes, but I bet they DO tell you that you're a deranged lunatic. ß This is what I FEEL like saying, but once again I just nod politely and edge further away from Skittles and Ma Seed-Vittles. Throughout, I'm naggingly worried about Herman and Chris tussling around outside.
This shopping spree was doomed from the get-go. I can't even concentrate. Like I said, the layout in here is horrible. Not attractive, does nothing for me. Plus the store smells musty. I find myself staring at a moldy bucket of organic strawberries and an equally unappealing, obviously old head of cauliflower. Fuck this store!
But then I start feeling guilty again - like I SHOULD buy SOMEthing - so I ask the dude behind the counter: "Do you carry Ezekial Sprouted Bread?"
He gazes at me beatifically: A very affected serenity. I dunno, these cult guys. To each his own, but I never buy their shtick. Serene my ass - contempt is never far beneath.
Dude: "Yes, we do."
Me: "What do you charge for it here?"
Dude: "What?" Ahh! There's that contempt! That took no time at all. I really have a knack…
Me: "How much do you charge for a loaf?"
Dude: "I believe we charge $6.00 for a loaf of the Ezekial."
Me: "Six bucks? I can get it for $4.00 at Trader Joe's!"
Dude: "What are you DOING in here? We're a SMALL STORE."
Me: "You know what? I don't know what the hell I'm doing in here. Because you're also a FILTHY store. Later, dude."
And I walk out. Really successful health food store outing.
I don't know where Bird Bitch went in the meantime, but she's nowhere in sight. Neither are Chris and Herm. I look up and down the street, walk to the corner. They are utterly missing. Where in hell did they go with this freaking dog dragging a giant cast around???
I head over in the direction of our car, figure it's my best bet to wait for them there, plus get some A/C action. But just as I'm approaching, I see a somewhat familiar figure making his way up the sidewalk coming directly toward me. It's… DOKANDA.
Oh, God…not DOKANDA. I throw myself into a little Krishna gift-shop doorway. (All the shops are in cahoots on this particular block.) I wait until Dokanda disappears from view. It's hard to tell if he spotted or recognized me, he'd been walking with a couple of buddies. But it hardly matters now - one successful Dokanda Avoidance under my belt, that's all that matters.
I lunge for the car just in time to see Chris and Herm coming around the bend, Herm still with the grunting, lunging and drooling act going full throttle. Chris, ditto with the pulling and cursing routine. We all get into the car at the same time.
Me: "Did you see him? Did you see DOKANDA?"
Chris: "Yup."
Me: "Did HE see YOU???"
Chris: "NOPE. Thank God."
Me: "Jeeez, that was close…."
To be Continued……
