...the reassuring "meep" of the product as it passes through the loving hands of the cashier...
...the thrill of the chase, as the product slides down the chute...
...the look of gratitude as another satisfied customer leaves the mini-mart...
The Song against Grocers
G. K. Chesterton
GOD made the wicked Grocer
For a mystery and a sign,
That men might shun the awful shops
And go to inns to dine;
Where the bacon's on the rafter
And the wine is in the wood,
And God that made good laughter
Has seen that they are good.
The evil-hearted Grocer
Would call his mother 'Ma'am,'
And bow at her and bob at her,
Her aged soul to damn,
And rub his horrid hands and ask
What article was next,
Though mortis in articulo
Should be her proper text.
His props are not his children,
But pert lads underpaid,
Who call out 'Cash!' and bang about
To work his wicked trade;
He keeps a lady in a cage
Most cruelly all day
And makes her count and calls her 'Miss'
Until she fades away.
The righteous minds of innkeepers
Induce them now and then
To crack a bottle with a friend
Or treat unmoneyed men,
But who hath seen the Grocer
Treat housemaids to his teas
Or crack a bottle of fish-sauce
Or stand a man a cheese?
He sells us sands of Araby
As sugar for cash down;
He sweeps his shop and sells the dust
The purest salt in town,
He crams with cans of poisoned meat
The subjects of the King,
And when they die by thousands
Why, he laughs like anything.
The wicked Grocer groces
In spirits and in wine,
Not frankly and in fellowship
As men in inns do dine;
But packed with soap and sardines
And carried off by grooms,
For to be snatched by Duchesses
And drunk in dressing-rooms.
The hell-instructed Grocer
Has a temple made of tin,
And the ruin of good innkeepers
Is loudly urged therein;
But now the sands are running out
From sugar of a sort,
The Grocer trembles; for his time,
Just like his weight, is short.
Back in the day, I used to read Salon.com before they started charging for it. It was well worth price, but at the same time Anne LaMott stopped being a regular columnist and I fell out of the habit.
Magazines make me uncomfortable. They're all right for other people, but they make me wince, even as I enjoy them. We could never be tight.
^^Read the analog version always at the hairdresser's or doctor's waiting room, rarely buy it ---->>----->> bookmarked it :)
New question: ¿What/Who pissed you off?
well, usually i piss myself off
like right now, when i am late for an appointment with the office doc and i'm still eating my bread and typing this
^Same here! :o
Plus: Dishonesty, cruelty/violence against children and (as more minor things) cold rain as well as tussis (hard to translate, a certain type of superficial girls) / tussi-like behaviour
Not much actually pisses me off, although I often get bemusedly irritated. But, like Stephi, anything that threatens the well-being of any child pisses me off royally. The threshold is somewhat lower when it's my own child.
Injustice, wherever I find it. Where people are unfair to one another and violate the golden rule, especially with intent. Where your fist touches the other guy's nose. They say I tilt at too many windmills, but they say a lot of stuff.
Well it sure ain't this muley-minded, screen-blanking, freeze-up every other page, #&%*&@ computer of mine.
In spite of the way Trisherina says we could never be tight because she doesn't read magazines and I do, I'm going with her answer: injustice, though tinged with sadness and regret for what might have been. *sigh*
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