This was written a while back…

At 9 this morning Dr went back to work after quarantining for fourteen days and nights, again. My job description was cleaning, cooking, and being quiet while he tele-medicined with his patients which is already on my resume’ except for the tele-medicine part. My job was done. I clocked out, turned in my key, mourned the loss of having the bed and bathroom and den and TV to myself then I jumped in the car, backed up, and came within an inch of killing Jeff Boggs walking down the sidewalk. Why was I in such a hurry? Because no one likes a cold front as much as I do. It has the capacity to put me in a good mood topped off with enough energy to clean every nook and cranny of this house. After I heard the forecast that warned everyone to stay home I went to the store because I’m absolutely giddy over weather warnings and threats and enjoy being a part of that which precedes a cold front. Yes, I actually went back. I filled my buggy up with all essentials I’d need for a cold front such as chicken thighs, sausage, and tasso for my gumbo. Oh, and I even found a hen, a dead hen. I say that because years ago when I was living in Lafayette I shopped at the old Albertson’s on Johnston Street. On this particular day I was shopping for Thanksgiving and as I came to the end of an aisle there was a lady (Hey Lady!) Looking at the lobster tank holding a living something. It was either a turkey because it was turkey season or a platypus because I remember it had a bill of some sort. I skedaddled down the aisle and turned around many times to make sure the turkey platypus wasn’t flying after me. And by the way I didn’t say, “Hey Lady,” to her. It’s just that every time I say, “lady,” I have to say, “Hey Lady” because of Jerry Lewis. It’s a habit. And no, this wasn’t a dream.

I rolled my four-hundred dollars worth of groceries to the cashier counter and started unloading then noticed it was the same cashier fella I spoke about in a previous article. I hurried to find my credit card, again, when lo and behold it just fell upon the top of an ear of corn in my buggy. I said to anyone who wanted to know, “How did this happen? Where did it come from? Did it fall out of my sleeve as though I was performing a magic act in Vegas. Crickets, as the young people say.

When I got to the parking lot I couldn’t find the card again and started digging in the too-many-pockets-in-that-darn-purse and still couldn’t find it. I went through all the four-hundred dollar grocery bags then sat in the car and looked through my purse, again. I dug in my sweat pants pockets then my fleece jacket pockets. I looked all over the parking lot with wind blowing like a hurricane was brewing in the Gulf and bent over and considered crawling under the car like a grease monkey but decided to back up then and got out of the car but nothing was there except a man in his truck who had been staring at me the entire time.

I was not about to go back in that store. They’d probably say something about me on that loud speaker. Something like, “Attention all cashiers, that old lady’s back looking for her card. The one who lost most of her tomatoes last week.” I went through the groceries one more time and again through my pockets and there it was way down in my right pocket just like the last time I lost it and had to write a check under duress and pick up my tomatoes off the floor.

I went back a few days ago and had all things organized and was ready to conquer the world and Super One. The masked cashier asked, “Are you a Senior Citizen?” I asked, “What?” She asked, “Are you a Senior Citizen?” I asked, “What?” She asked while lowering her mask a tad, “Are you a Senior Citizen?” “I said “Yes, I couldn’t hear you.”

I’ve decided I’m going to spread out more so no one recognizes me and my shortcomings. I may even venture out of town, or better yet, across the bayou. I’ll keep y’all posted because I know this must be fascinating stuff to read.