Saturday, September 18, 2010

License to Ill





Monkey was feeling a little under the weather this weekend so I kind of crawled through my chores Thursday and finally climbed into the sack. Before I did though I had to make something soothing and hearty in the case my little bug lasted longer than one day. There was no real deals at the grocery store and my ideas were waning. Soup comes to mind when you're illin' and so I went with a vegetable beef soup. I wanted to add barley but I forgot it. As a matter of fact I forgot a lot of things that day. When I start to get a bug, I get clumsy and forgetful, easily confused and the list goes on. I dropped off the laundry and was in the checkout line at the PathMark when I went to get my card and of course, immediately remembered it was in the pants pocket of the jeans I had just dropped off. Thank goodness it was one of the nice cashiers. Of course she was an Islander. Now, I KNOW there are bad and good people of every creed and color but I've found here in NY that Islanders are more often than not, amazing, good-hearted, caring people that seem to be the closest thing to mid-western nice that I've experienced. They also possess some sort of unique calm and comfort that I really like being around. This cashier was so understanding that I had left my card and when I promised to run home and get it, she actually looked at me and said, 'okay'. Now if you don't live in NY or go to PathMark in Brooklyn, you might not understand how completely unrealistic my hope was to actually come right back and pay for these groceries. As a matter of fact when I came back, another cashier was trying to put them away and she said basically 'tough s*^t' even though my cashier said I was coming right back. And that woman made me wait in a line 6 people deep, with FULL carts just to swipe my card.

I ran back to the laundry mat where I was able to have them open the dryer, where I pulled the wet and bent card out of my pants and run back to the store. Like I said, its hard to explain but this could have gone so badly and since I was dragging anyway, I felt so lucky and relieved that this cashier helped me out.

In NY most times, cashiers won't even look at you through your entire transaction and they have perfected giving change back without making any human contact or acknowledgement of you in any way. It's a talent, I think. So when you do get a nice person, its almost shocking. We need that, you know human interaction, acknowledgment, I think - or at least we really use it when we get it, like fuel to then be cool to the next person along the way. And there are plenty of next people, so it really is important I believe.




So I made the soup and it was hearty and good. The stock is rich and comforting. The potatoes and carrots kept up their integrity along with the celery even though it was boiling in this big pot for so long.

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