Mac’s shopping adventure!

Those of you who know me well, know that I am nothing if not a consummate shopper. My shopping abilities are second to none. I am the one who goes out for one item, say a jar of mustard. Three hours later I return with a container of cottage cheese, a rubber mallet (to keep my other one company) and a new plant. Oh, and a bottle of vodka.

Today was different. I did a Lake Elsinore (aka Lake Oswego) run. For those not in on the lingo, there is a dispensary in Lake Elsinore, California (Lake Oswego is in Oregon) and I am announcing that I am headed out to buy some pot when I say “I am going to Lake Elsinore/Oswego”. I am happy to be the mule for anyone who would has the dinars! (Remind me to tell you about my experience with Dinars.)

Today was slightly different. I also went to Costco in Lake Elsinore. I Had an appointment to have my eyes examined. It went like silk! 40 minutes later I walked out with a year’s worth of new contacts. I walked back in to do some additional shopping (reference the vodka mentioned above).

It went of without a hitch! I was so damn proud of myself. $65.00 worth of booze and I strolled out of the warehouse together. But there is the $1.50 hot dog meal. I couldn’t resist, although I have to admit I felt a bit odd pushing a shopping cart full of ‘adult’ beverages thru the line to get a hot dog, but somethings are just worth the embarrassment.

I toddled back to the car and deftly stuck to booze in places where the bottles wouldn’t rattle. (Remind me to tell you about the time one of the bottles broke. I Still have scars on my tongue!) I went and sat in said car and ever-so-carefully put the mustard on the dog. Perfectly executed! I was getting a little cocky by this point. I usually would have mustard on me by now.

It was a beautiful day in Lake Elsinore; I decided to open the windows. The amazingly well-mustarded hot dog sat on my lap. Now because the car one of those hoity-toity vehicles, I couldn’t just roll down the damn window. I had to pretend to start the car. That necessitated me lifting a foot and placing it on the break pedal and leaning forward to push the appropriate button. I am proud to state that the procedure was a total success. That is unless you count the streak of yellow across my shirt.

Okay, I only had one stop left and that was the dispensary. Come on! No budtender worth their keep would notice. Or if they did, they would think it was like, totally cool.

So, I eat the dog and take a sip of ice-cold Pepsi. The glass slips.

I jump out of the car (can’t help but chuckle at the thought of me “jumping out of a car”). The seat is actually pretty okay, and there are napkins in the car, so all is good from that angle. But you know, I look at my pants and think to myself, “This looks like an inside job.”

Oh, and did I mention “ice-cold”?

I told the budtender, "I had a little fight with my lunch. My lunch won. Don’t rub my face in it"! He didn’t.

Oh, and Gert! Thanks, they all know me by my duck mask! So, I can’t hide!