May 11, 2009

convenience store

Wait. This liquor store.

What again is the problem with this liquor store?

It always hits me when I walk in. But, by then, it's too late.

It was about two years ago that I got a call from the credit card people informing that there had been strange activity on my card.

At the time, I hadn't used the card in close to a year.

But, then, there was this barbecue we had to go to (all of a sudden) and, just as we were about to step onto the train, we realized: we forgot the beer.

So we stopped at the aforementioned liquor store.

And I used my credit card.

I remember that we then left the liquor store and went directly to the barbecue.

Hours passed.

There were a few mosquitoes. But that was ok.

It was the fact that the guest of honor's husband was a rocket scientist that seemed to bring everyone together.

This went on for about an hour:

Seriously, he's an actual rocket scientist - isn't that so funny?

There were some problems with the neighbors, though.

They kept coming into the yard and demanding parts of the pig that was being roasted.

I thought they were kidding.

The roasting of a whole pig. I don't get it. I never have.

This has nothing to do with vegetarianism.

I do like baked apples, though (so there's that).

In all honesty, I didn't think that anything odd was going on.

I thought the party throwers knew the pig-enthusiasts.

I really did.

It was funny.

Like tv.


Everything was about what one would expect.

But then the sun went down.

And that's when things took a turn for the worst.

This barbecue, which took place in a neighborhood that seems like a good idea when the sun is shining, but becomes filled with crazy people and gun shots right around 8pm - wasn't worth it.

The fun.

The hilarity.

It was about at 8pm that it felt like time to say goodnight to our host.

And, about ten minutes later, we were home.


I turned on all of the lights and the stove and AC and the tv and threw away all kinds of recycling (just put it right into the incinerator) and made hundreds of phone calls.

I was just so happy to be home.


I had never been so relieved to see an eastbound Division Street bus as I was that night.

There might have been one other time. But that one was going west.

It was about eight years ago.

I was worried about being late for work and had been working with a teacher's assistant on something that completely confused me.

Somehow, I had forgotten that I worked that night, and (checking several times) realized that didn't have enough cash to take a cab (which in all fairness would have probably taken just as long as the bus).

But that was "work-related" bus happiness.

Not really the same thing (bus-wise).

So, at any rate, we got home ok.

From the barbecue. That night. Almost two years ago.

Hungry, we went right into the kitchen to make grilled chicken salads with beats, ginger, cilantro, and the merest whisper of homemade sesame dressing.

As well, left-over tacos, cold spaghetti and half a bag of potato smiles.

Then, at some point, our friend came over (to make a series of crank calls) and, seeing as she brought over a magnum of vodka, we drank vodka.

And, I remember that I slept well.


Then, the next day was a Sunday. So I had lots to do before the work week started all over again.

Mondays: they're either good or they're bad.

And, seeing as Mondays set the tone for the whole week - the things I do on Sunday can be very important.

Especially as, depending on where they fall within a month, certain Mondays can effect an entire
month - if not season.

I always think of this.

So, I had to iron a particular skirt again. As this skirt always required several ironings.

No matter. I simply got on with my day.

And that's all I remember about that day.

Then, if you can believe it, it was Monday (really Monday).

And that's when I got the call.

The credit card people. They said that there had been strange activity on my card.

There was a four hundred dollar charge for something that, if I heard the person correctly, was either an escort or one very expensive phone call (to that effect).

The liquor store!


They were the last place I had used that card (in a very long time). And this activity happened within hours of that beer purchase.

I got to say, as armchair forensic specialists go, I am up there.

Of course, the credit card people cleared up the whole thing for me.

And, for the most part, I put the whole episode out of my mind.

Still, I didn't go to that liquor store for a very long time.

And when I finally did, I noticed that I always used cash (for some reason).

I didn't think about it too carefully - it was just the way I rolled.

It was dormant in my mind.

I knew to use cash - but didn't concentrate on "why".

Sometimes we buy beer there.


But they also have a very nice selection of wine and cat food.

As well, doritos, aspirin and tampax.

It just so happens that they are open late and are quite convenient.

So I shopped there. Just today.

And that's when it hit me.

Like my life flashing before my eyes.

and I remembered everything..


  1. I love it when that happens(the remembering of everything)
    I hate it when that happens(the remembering of everything)
    The mind is such a strange place to be.
    It is such a strange place to mind(as in minding the store)

  2. What happened to the comment I posted yesterday? Were you the one who came after me online last night, Victoriablog? You're connected to a few different people on Twitter who came after me...

  3. THAT (right there) is why I blocked you from my twitter account, Matt.

    Your self-imposed drama is totally uninteresting to me.

    I am not your problem.

    I was disgusted by a comment you made about rape on twitter. That is ALL.

  4. Jesus fucking christ. Whatever.

  5. I think that's a little harsh, dude. I was just in the midst of something stupid and I was getting death threats. I was anxious. Sorry to have offended you. Take care.

  6. You're a really harsh lady today, Victoriablog. Yes, I was paranoid. I was wrong.... It's a learning experience, for sure.