A secret all along, unless I’ve got this wrong

Another venture into the weirdos that briefly intrude on my daily life and ramble inside my head for weeks on end…

Sunday morning, I got up and felt sorry for Moose because he was out of his food–the food that was pimped by the vet, “Hill’s Science Diet”. So I drove around Eugene (because nothing in Cottage Grove opens before 11 on a Sunday), I hit up Hirons and a little garden story, both of which, I was assured that they would have the large breed puppy food–or so the dog food webpage falsely professed.

Eventually, I come to the Mini Pet-mart, on Willamette. I was extremely happy to see that not only did they have the food, but they also had it in the bulldozer-size bag, because my dog can munch through one of those smaller bags in an afternoon. I sling the food over my shoulder and slug it up to the front; I grab a rawhide for the ride home (for the dog). Once at the counter, I make small talk until this semi-sketchy (as many Eugene-folk are) sees my purchases and raises her finger and says to me, “y’know, Science Diet has by-products in it… there’s a lot more sensible choices that can be made.”

Now, I’m a pretty knowledgeable guy when it comes to by-products, I’m by-product conscious type of person. However, it wasn’t the statement that rattled in my head, rather, it was that I was being given social demerits due my dog food by-productness, while this lady is buying two packs of cigarettes (side note: why does a pet store have cigarettes… I guess that’s the “mini” in the “Mini Pet-mart”).

I wish I could have access to the security camera footage because I think I stood there with my mouth left hanging open sitting in there in the wind, due to the hypocrisy that was apparently in ample supply that morning. In my head I was saying, “You want to talk about by-products, I’d much rather crush up my dog’s food, get some rolling papers, and smoke a pack of that every day rather than the cigarettes you just bought.” Of course, I’m a lot more gutsy in my head than I am with my mouth, so I just remained standing there, stunned.

After I regained my functions, I said to the lady, “yeah. ok.” and paid for my stuff as the comment-lady did her methamphetamine shuffle out the door. As I’m signing the credit card receipt, I ended my Mini Pet-mart visit with, “Yeah, well, my dog happens to prefer the taste of byproduct-laden dog food.”

Truly, life would be without that extra special glimmer, if it weren’t these people.

About Wellsy

Chris is a twenty-something Special Education teacher and Football coach in a little town south of Eugene, Oregon. Chris happily lives with his beautiful wife and his terribly uncoordinated Grate Dane named Moose. Chris has been known to travel, like reading, wanting more time to writing, be in the outdoors more, and generally not befoul the world.

Posted on October 11, 2005, in random whine, where i am and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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