Copy Paper Run

Office Max has stereos for sale. A customer who’s testing the speakers tunes it to a hip-hop station.

Me: Nothing makes you feel whiter than gangsta rap

Rachel: Gangsta rap in Office Max.

Me: True dat.

Chances Are

I go grocery shopping with Rachel, and suddenly our cart is missing.

Where’s our cart?

Wha..?

Where’s our cart?

Shit, my wallet was in there.

Shit.

Rachel hunts down the embarrassed girl who accidentally took our cart, reclaims the cart and my wallet, and puts my wallet in her purse. Ten minutes later the cart is about half full.

Where’s our cart?

Right there.

Where?

Behind the potatoes.

No, it’s not.

What the f—?

This is unbelievable.

We hunt down the new girl who took our cart. She gives us a nasty look as we approach. She does not like people. She especially does not like people approaching her cart.

Excuse me, I think you may have accidentally taken our cart.

I don’t think so. This is my cart. (sneers)

Oh… Uh…

This is my cart.

Really? Did you have two bags of broccoli…

This is definitely my cart. (begins pulling cart away from us)

…and two separate bags of potatoes and two separate bags of snap peas…

Oh. I guess it isn’t my cart.

Yeah.

Sorry.

No problem.

That last bit, the apology? It was unconvincing. Later, we were forced to mock her. “This is my Mac ‘N’ Cheese.” “Oh, I don’t think so. What you have there is my Mac ‘N’ Cheese.”

Hectic

Life has been busy lately. Wedding planning combined with book proposal writing has kept my brain humming. A few days ago, I made myself lunch, and sat down to work. About an hour later, I wondered why I was so hungry, having just eaten. I thought for a minute, and walked over to the microwave. Inside was my lunch.

Details

Flipping through the invitation book at our local stationer.

Me: These are lovely.

Bryan: Wow. Yeah.

Me: They’re not red though.

Bryan: That was my thought.

Me: But do people really remember enough about the invitation to be surprised that it doesn’t match the wedding colors?

Bryan: No way. I can’t imagine a single person doing that.

Me: What if they do? What if there are entire groups of people sitting around wondering why our wedding invitation doesn’t match our table clothes and the bridesmaid dresses?

Bryan: Come on. No one is going to notice.

Me: I think I might be one of those people who noticed.

Bryan: No, you wouldn’t.

Me: I might.

Bryan: Well then, I think you may be the exception to the rule.

Me: And/or the kind of person we wouldn’t want to be friends with anyway.

Bryan: Ha! True. Let’s get them.

Me: OK.

Unbearable and Trifling

From Life of Pi by Yann Martel:

“I would have won the Governor General’s Academic Medal… were it not for a beef-eating pink boy with a neck like a tree trunk and a temperament of unbearable good cheer.

I still smart a little at the slight. When you’ve suffered a great deal in life, each additional pain is both unbearable and trifling.”

What Year is it Again?

An all-too-familiar excerpt from Here Comes the Guide Companion magazine Spring 2003:

“Don’t forget: That man in the corner is your fiance. While you may have intended to plan the entire wedding yourself, consider including him in the process. Because he loves you, he’ll tag along with you to the florist, caterer, photographer and wedding planner. And because he loves you, he’ll forgive you for saying stream-of-consciousness things like, “Oh honey don’t you just love this it’s so adorable how does it look on me oooh I just have to have it!” Even though he probably won’t share your boundless enthusiasm for picking out party favors or linens, he’ll do what he can–chauffer you around and say “uh-huh” a lot, despite the fact that he really doesn’t understand much of what’s going on.”

Dear anonymous author,

Bite me.

Sincerely,

Maggie Berry