You see, Muffin was at the trailer (for five glorious, silent, peaceful days… don’t tell her that). She was due home Tuesday afternoon and since I, uh, missed her, I thought I’d pick up some stuff and make her supper … albeit a man meal of steak, hash browns and corn niblets. I picked up a few things then went to the meat department. Normally I just walk past the cut meats and go to the sausage/ hot dog/ bacon section, but this time I stopped to look for pork chops. Well, I was amazed the pork section was very small and sparse. There were no rib chops so I stepped over to the beef section for a nice rib steak instead. As I positioned myself to ogle the alluring beef cuts laying in cool, seductive repose, my eye was captured by a particularly charming roast, bashfully secluded towards the back of the shelf. I cast a loving glance at her and stooped closer to leer at her meaty goodness. She was nicely shaped but could have been fatter. My eyes skimmed across her price sticker and I jumped back in horror. This coy little roast wanted $38.86 for her flavours! This was no shy little piece of meat – she was a calculating strumpet trying to pick my pocket. I snorted disapproval and indignantly averted my eyes to the upper steak-laden shelf hoping the little roast felt my scorn. I picked up a cute little steak and debated if she could satisfy both Muffin and me. I looked at her price tag – $5.64! Now that’s more like it. For that price we could each have one. I found another for $5.90 and graciously decided that Muffin would get the bigger one. I know that roast floozy felt the coldness of my shoulder as I left with the two steak sisters in my cart.
Muffin arrived home and was pleased when I told her to just relax because I was making supper. She ruined my menu surprise when she mentioned that she saw the steaks in the fridge and commented, “$12.64 is a lot to pay for a steak, eh?” I said, “No, no, it was only $5.64 and the other one was $5.90.” She just said, “Uh, OK …” and nodded off for a nap. My mind cramped. Who was wrong? I went to the fridge and confidently pulled out that cute little steak and read … $12.64! I snatched the other beefy cutie from the fridge and she was … $12.90! WTF (What Tremendous Fun). This makes no sense; I know the prices were different at the store.
I had my eyes checked recently and got new glasses this spring so I was confident my eyesight was good. I KNEW I read $5.64 and $5.90 on those packages. I remember thinking that was more like a price should be. Then I thought of all the spelling mistakes I’ve been making recently and all of the things I misread. For example, I puzzle over the need for a Toronto Sock Exchange; I’m amazed to read I can get Free Chicken at the bank and I blush about the girl with the long black boobs. Things don’t make sense.
In addition to opining last week about time passing me by, I am now faced with creeping decrepitude. I’m not ready to get off this ride just yet, so what can I do: shuffle off to the sidelines with my fly open (which Muffin points out I do a lot lately anyway); just forge on and damn the torpedoes? It’s too much. I’ll just have a beer.
* Actual words “Revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night”, from Manfred Mann’s version of Bruce Springsteen’s “Blinded By the Light.”
Yours in the Zone
© 2015 David Jones