Good Friday

I stopped by my local Safeway this afternoon to pick up a small Easter Ham. Then things got weird. As I hopped out of the truck… One should always hop at Easter time. It’s in the Scriptures. No, I don’t remember where. Ask Donald Trump... Anyway, as I hopped out of the truck, the sky opened up and sunshine flooded the parking lot. Three people dressed like Sailor Moon walked past me, and the sound of a French horn playing You Are My Sunshine filled the air. Yes, that happened... But wait, there’s more.

Inside the store I headed straight for the ham and then quickly to the express register. After placing my carefully selected Black Forest Ham on the conveyor belt, everything came to a stop. The cashier was searching for a key to open up the lottery scratch ticket case for a woman. The line grew longer, but this lady wasn’t moving without her scratch tickets; so, unable to find the right key, the cashier borrowed one form a nearby register and the wheels of capitalism began turning again. The lady purchased what appeared to be a few of every kind of ticket in the case. So far everything inside the store is normal, but, when the cashier tried to hand Scratch Ticket Lady her free Safeway Monopoly game piece, the women abruptly gave it back announcing that she didn’t want it because she’d, “never win”. I don’t know if anyone else in line was entertained, but the irony amused me enough to make the wait worthwhile.

After getting my ham and my free Monopoly game piece, I headed toward the door where a man asked me, “Do you play that Monopoly game?” He had a hand full of tickets so I figured he wanted mine too, but without thinking I said, “My wife does”. Then he gave me all of his tickets. I didn’t know what to say so I just said, “Thanks. I’ll tell my wife a nice guy at the store gave me these”. Then he started laughing, “Nice guy!” he said, “I need to do this more often… Nobody ever calls me a ‘nice guy!’” Doubly amused, I continued on.

Next thing ya know I’m back outside and the French horn music is audible again. This time I see where it’s coming from. There was a busker woman a few doors down, sitting on a chair, playing her heart out to an empty sidewalk. I never know how much to drop in a busker’s case, so I appreciated this one making it obvious. She was sitting outside The Dollar Store under a sign that said “Everything $1.00”. So I walked on down and got me a song for a buck.

...And as it turned out, that “French horn” wasn’t quite a French horn. But it was from the French horn family its owner told me. I don’t remember what she called it, but it was like a French horn except its big bell stuck straight out instead of curling around like a sleeping dog. Speaking of sleeping dogs, it’s time to take mine for a walk.

Good Friday everyone!