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Monday, November 03, 2003

From a guy who thinks a pretty cool date is Sam's Club. 

With the Packer game at night, yesterday was shopping day. Jessica and I hit up this grocery store where we ran into two of the coolest shoppers on the planet. The whole thing began a little erroneously.

It was a new Pick 'n Save, and I was thinking to myself, "Why do they only put one apostrophe by the 'n'? That stands for the missing 'a', but what about the 'd'?" And as I pondered this frustrating grammatical dilemna, we turned left . . . essentially taking the store on backwards -- dairy/frozen first, produce last. And it was as we strolled through the TV dinners that we heard it:

"Come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me . . ."

Over and over again, the Styx chorus chanted, blasting through the store. Jess and I were looking up at the ceiling like other customers, thinking, "Damn, someone's jamming out to some Styx." And no matter where we walked . . . the music seemed just as loud. I knew this was a new store, but surround sound? Just then I saw a guilty smile on the face of a shopper ahead of me.

Two guys -- late 20s, early 30s -- were piling Hungry Mans into their cart . . . on top of of a boom box that was hidden only from sight. I spent the rest of the trip wondering what motivates someone to love Styx -- I mean, Styx -- so much that he has to bring them into the store with him and rock out.

Pretty cool.

I'm finding myself participating in activities I would have avoided in my former life. For instance, earlier that day at Sam's Club. We just went to get a couple things and sample all the free food. But when we finished, Jessica had the supreme idea of sitting down for some Sam's Club pizza: Yep -- we're those people that eat inside the store. And I fuckin' love it. $5.00 for two slices of pepperoni and a large soda after a hard day of shopping . . . it doesn't get any better than that.

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