New Phobia:

Being trapped in an aisle of a thrift store in Florida between dozens of angry, old ladies trying to get the cheapest Christmas gifts possible for friends and relatives who will already be suffering just by having to share a building with them on a day they were hoping to relax.

A couple is in the store, shooting the breeze with my coworker, trying to figure out whether or not to get to Volume 1 of the Invincible trade or to get the first compendium, when they guy's phone rings.

Approximation of Random Guy's Call:

"Yes. yes. Well, that can't be right. No. No. I'm on vacation. Yea, we traveled. No, I'm fine. I mean. Yea. A bit of a stuffy nose." Fuck. "Just since before Christmas. I'm sure it's not. Ok. Yea. Give me just a minute."

Shockingly, he decides he and his girlfriend should go outside to take the rest of the call. I am very much appreciative of this, as I'm guessing the call is to let him know he has Covid. Both my coworker and I are wearing KN95 masks, and I know that many people don't have the means and privilege to get checked for Covid every day, but you're supposed to get checked before traveling, even if you've been vaccinated and boostered. It's just common courtesy (and not in the Skeletor voice).

Assuming they're gone, I begin entering things into the computer when the girlfriend starts WAILING. I mean people a block or so away can hear her "BUT WE ARE ON VACATION! IT'S CHRISTMAS AND YOU PROMISED WE COULD DO THINGS. WE SPENT SOOOOO MUCH MONEY. I DON'T WANT TO QUARANTINE."

She lost all my empathy with her last sentence. Look, nobody wants to, but if your partner gets a call that he has Covid, your vacation is over. You need to go back to where you're staying, apologize to whoever you're staying with (because they almost definitely also have Covid now) and fucken quarantine. No matter how much money you spent, your vacation is OVER. Binge watch a show together, read some books that you already own or are in the place you're staying, have a Youtube party but stay the fuck at your home base.

When the wailing subsided, I heard the door to the building open, and I saw her walking towards the store door, I shut it. I didn't say anything or make eye contact. It's really shitty to find out you might have Covid and then try and go into a retail establishment. Get out of public.

​She didn't argue or complain, but hung out in the hallway until her partner came back. I'm not sure what he said because I'm back on the computer, but she started crying again and they slowly disappeared from earshot.

I decided, instead of holiday movies, I'd just put Miyazaki films on in the store.

HBOMax: Because you just finished watching "Howl's Moving Castle", would you like to watch "Watership Down"?

Of course not. The hell is wrong with you?

​Happy Holidays, kids ENJOY THESE DEAD RABBITS.

Me at 1155: I should probably start cooking something for Thanksgiving.

Me at 1200: I haven't made this sauce recipe in a while. And the last time I made it, I changed the recipe and really liked it. There was some sort of secret ingredient. Oh, well. Every other time I've made it, it's come out awesome.

Me at 1215: I don't have the core ingredient that makes this sauce. I shall have to improvise.

Me at 1217: WAIT! This happened last time, and I replaced (ingredient) with (variation on ingredient). And I DO have that ingredient.
​

I make the recipe. Taste. Flavor. Taste. Flavor. Edit. Taste.

Me at 1225: THIS IS MY SAUCE NOW. I WILL DRINK IT LIKE SOUP.

Me at 1230: Well, I'll pour some of it into mason jars, but I am definitely going to throw this bacon and cheese ravioli in the remainder of the sauce, and skip Thanksgiving entirely.

Me at 1235: I'm never going to finish all this sauce. I guess I'll go.

I've been avoiding the large CVS in Harvard Square because it is clearly managed by ADD lemurs with nasty cocaine habits. There will be a line of fifteen people, one employee behind a cash register, seven closed cash register, two employees lazily stocking Vitamin Water that I've never seen anyone buy, while a manager barks orders at the customers waiting in line, under the guise that he (and it's always a he) is somehow helping the line flow.


This morning, after next to no sleep, I went in to get some liquid nourishment, and all the colors in the display looked wrong. I thought I was having some sort of stroke or sugar-induced visual failure.

It turns out, the last time I was in there was around Valentine's day, when everything was red and white. But now it's almost Easter, so the almost precisely the same products are pastel purples and yellows.

​Luckily, I had nine minutes in line to figure out that it's a holiday issue, and my vision is completely fine. In this particular case.

No, I didn't miss National Cat Day yesterday, there are too many ridiculous fake holidays to keep track of. I have enough trouble keeping track of the real ones.

​Which reminds me: don't forget to turn your cocks back tonight for National Power Bottom Day. I haven't seen as many posts or pics about it today as I saw posts and pics of cats yesterday, but it's perhaps a more important holiday, as cats tend to view every day as National Cat Day, while power bottoms probably don't.

A customer was purchasing the final volume of Marvel Now's Deadpool, which I was unable to find in the computer. After scrolling for a bit, I found it.

Me: "I see what happened. Somebody missed the first 'e' in 'Deadpool'.

Customer: "Heh. Dadpool. He probably has the Dadbod to go with it."

Random Loiterer: "I think you just found your new Halloween costume."

Customer: "Yea! And I can dress my kid up as Kidpool."

Random Loiterer: "Don't forget to give me credit."

​Customer: "I don't have a kid, guy. I was being sarcastic."

Fair warning, guys, today is National Narrate What A Stranger Is Doing Day.

So far, I've been informed that I was waiting for a bus, that I was opening a door, that I was carrying a table, and that I work in the store where I'm sitting behind the counter.

I'm about to start saying things like "Hey, you're about to get to burned by some severe side eye." and "Your Kindergarten teacher is going to call you and let you know that the skills you were praised for when you were five are unimpressive when you're in your fifties."