All Rileyed Up

Dedicated to I.Heart.Vivaglam –

Monday.

Today, I went to the grocery store with a pre-written list of items and bought everything needed for the whole family to eat at home for the next week. It gave me a nice feeling of accomplishment.

Tuesday.

I realized this morning I forgot to buy coffee yesterday, and wound up with a massive headache. The kids pulled out the eggs to eat for breakfast and dropped them on the floor and while I was cleaning that up, they poured the entire new box of cheerios into the dog bowl. I pointed to the bowl of apples on the table and asked them to each please sit down and eat an apple at the table, so they couldn’t do any more damage while I cleaned out the dog bowls. When I was done, I discovered that they had taken one bite out of every apple. So I went to the grocery store and bought coffee, eggs, cheerios, and apples.

Wednesday.

I was getting stuff out of the fridge to cook breakfast and then stepped on the demo button of my son’s keyboard, which had been left on the floor. It loudly blared out Grand Old Flag in that electronic sound that unnerves me, and out of shock, I dropped the eggs. Only half of them broke, but I decided to go to the grocery store and pick up more. Since I had extra eggs, I made a goat cheese and sun dried tomato quiche for dinner. It was so good. I’m so full now.

Thursday.

I’ve been up all night throwing up. I think the quiche made me sick. I went to the store for some Pepto Bismol and Gatorade. They were all out of those special shopping carts that have toy cars attached to them, and my kids were running wild all over the store. I finally got them to calm down by bribing them with a box of Nutri-Grain bars.

Friday.

Okay, I bought this preservative free bread on Monday because it sounded so healthy and the stupid loaf is already covered in mold. I also found a chewed up plastic bag in the backyard, which is all that remains of the sliced deli meat. I don’t know when the dogs got a hold of it, but I suspect they have learned to open the fridge when I am not home. I went to the grocery store to buy more bread, and the bagged lettuce was on sale, so I got one of those too.

Saturday.

I forgot there was a reason I don’t buy bagged lettuce. I haven’t even opened it, and the lettuce leaves are already sticking together, and it just looks gross. The expiration date is tomorrow, and I don’t know if I can return it once it’s past the date, so I went to the store today. It was so crowded and I stood in the longest line to get a refund of $2.83. I was so irritated by the crowd at the store, I decided to get a coffee. I used my $2.83 refund at the Starbucks inside the grocery store. The girl who was working behind the counter must have been new because she had to remake my drink twice before getting it right. By this time, I decided I didn’t want to be in the grocery store anymore and left. I dropped my coffee in the parking lot when I was rooting through my bag looking for my car keys. I hate going to the grocery store.

Do you ever read the Sheriff’s Log? Always a fun read to find out what the local hooligans are up to. Unfortunately, the sheriff’s log is short on details, something about innocent until proven guilty or privacy or whatever. So I’ve added in how I imagine these moments actually went down.

Incident A:
“A phone call was made reporting an Asian female subject who was Dumpster diving.”
(I didn’t know exactly what dumpster diving was, and was having images of that episode of Jackass where they scuba dive in a septic tank. According to Wikipedia, “Dumpster diving, also called “dumpstering”, “binning”, “trashing”, or “garbing”, is a North American term to describe the practice of rummaging through commercial or residential trash to find useful free items that have been discarded.” Also, “Many people dumpster dive not out of economic necessity, but for the thrill of the hunt, or as a creative outlet by looking for things in ways other than intended, or fixing things prematurely discarded.”)

Revision:
The Dumpster Diver is rooting through the dumpster. A shopping cart is to the side of her, filled with lots of empty bottles and cans, as well as a picture frame, old magazines, and a painting tarp.

The Informant, AKA Snitch, is a woman in a wheelchair watching from her telescope at her the rear window, frantically chewing her nails and pulling her hair. She finally grabs the phone and dials.

Snitch: “I can see her! I can see her doing it! She’s… she’s dumpster diving! Oh, the horror!”

911 Operator: Ma’am, is this dumpster diver threatening you? Is she in your home?

Snitch: No. But I can see her. It’s gross!

911 Operator: I’ll note that you called in ma’am.

Snitch: You do agree it’s gross though, right?

911 Operator hangs up.

Informant throws open window and calls out to the dumpster diver: “Hey! You in the trash! You’re disgusting!” She then spits out the window and throws an empty bottle.

An hour later, a police officer arrives. The dumpster diver is with him. She is wearing an Earth First T-shirt.

Snitch: You caught her! That’s the dumpster diver!

Police Officer, ignoring her remark: Ma’am, we were notified that you threw this object from your window an hour ago? (He holds up the empty bottle.)

Snitch: At her! She was garbing! Binning! Dumpstering!

Police Officer speaks into his radio: Suspect is using incomprehensible words. (He looks at Snitch) You are aware it’s illegal to litter? I’m going to have to give you a citation for this.

Snitch: But she was dumpster diving!

Officer shrugs his shoulders and hands her a citation and walks away. The Snitch and the Dumpster Diver stare each other down.

Dumpster Diver: Give a hoot! Don’t Pollute.

Incident B:
“Several juveniles on skateboards were in a bank parking lot smoking marijuana.” I had trouble discerning what the actual crime was – the skateboarding or the loitering in a bank parking lot.

Revision:
The skateboarders are standing in the parking lot passing a joint around. Pothead #1 throws it down and steps on it.

Pothead #1: Dude, I’m so high.
Pothead #2: Yeah.
Pothead #3: Yeah.

Laughter ensues for 10 minutes.

Pothead #1: Dude, I’m soooooo high.
Pothead #2: Yeah.
Pothead #3: Yeah.

Laughter ensues for 10 minutes.

Pothead #1: Dude, we’re at the bank.
Pothead #2: Got a transaction to make?

Laughter ensues for 10 minutes.

Pothead #3: What were we just talking about?

The potheads are silent for 10 minutes, scratching their heads.

Pothead #1: Dude, I’m high.
Pothead #2: Yeah.
Pothead #3: Yeah.

Laughter ensues for 10 minutes. It is cut off by the sound of a siren and flash of red lights.

A police officer walks up.

Police Officer: You boys doing what I think you’re doing?

Pothead #1: Uh…

Police Officer: Exactly what I thought! (He picks up his walkie talkie and speaks into it) We got ourselves some skateboarders!

Two more policemen walk up, brandishing swords. The potheads look terrified. Just as the three policemen begin to close in on them, Tony Hawk flies in with his skateboard, spins around three times, and knocks out all three cops, then lands on his board, in front of the skaters.

Tony Hawk: You’re safe now.

Pothead #1: Tony Hawk, you rule!

Incident C:
“A 26-year-old man was arrested on charges of resisting arrest and indecent exposure after he allegedly walked around naked on the beach and refused to put on a towel despite the protestations of lifeguards.” I wonder, would the lifeguards have protested a 26 year old woman doing this?

Revision:
A naked man is walking down the beach. Lifeguard drives up with a towel.

Lifeguard: Sir, we need you to please cover yourself.

Man: Are you intimidated by my manliness?

Lifeguard: Uh, no sir, we just think it would be better for everyone if you were clothed.

Man: In France, no one had a problem with me doing this.

Lifeguard: You leave me no choice sir. (He picks up his megaphone and speaks into it) I have a man here claiming that France is better than the US.

The crowd at the beach converges and beats the man down, while chanting “USA! USA!” The police arrive in riot gear to disperse the crowd. The man is later deported.

All this and more, next week. Same Riley time. Same Riley Place.

I finally did it, I started a blog.

My Plan? A weekly post.
My Subjects? Could be anything.
My Goal? To exercise my mind. Improve my writing.

Your role in these aspirations? Be amused. Be inspired. Be informed. Is that asking too much? Give me a few posts before you answer that question.

In the meantime, turn out the lights and turn on the disco ball… time to get your read on.