. . .can be explained with one word and one picture.
The word? Vacation.
The picture? Low country boil:
I made it to the last aisle. Frozen foods, to be exact. I had been focused and organized, flying through my list and poised to make it out of the store in record time. But there she stood in front of the frozen pizzas, reading off the names of each one into her cell phone:
Roadblock: "Well, let's see, there's pepperoni, sausage, plain cheese, meat lover's, pepperoni and sausage, half pepperoni-half cheese, veggie...hmmm, but you wouldn't like that. Okay, how about mushroom, four cheese, supreme...Well? Do any of those sound good?"
Long pause.
Roadblock: "Hello? Hello? Are you even listening to me?"
I sensed she was talking to her husband. Normally, I would have skipped ahead of her to the off-brand section, but dammit, I had a coupon.
Roadblock: "How does meat lover's sound? What's that? You can't hear me? MEAT LOVER'S. Does that sound good to you? Oh, good. Well, let me just get it out and make sure there aren't any onions on it."
She then proceeded to read the entire list of ingredients out loud into the phone. At one point she even glanced over at me, but didn't give an inch. She was hellbent on making the perfect pizza selection.
Roadblock: "So it doesn't sound like there are any onions, right? We'll go with it then."
And she started moving her cart. But...
Roadblock: "Well, maybe I'll get another one for this weekend. We can have a nice night in. I can get a sausage or pepperoni, or whatever you like. Maybe another meat lover's. Just tell me what you would prefer. Or I could get a small pizza with some garlic bread. Would you like that? Hello?"
I have to admit, despite my shock and awe, I kind of felt bad for her.
Roadblock: "Well, I thought you'd like to choose. I'll just pick something out and if you don't like it, well, you're going to have to live with it."
By this point, I had actually rested my cart against a display case and was casually leaning against it. Openly listening to her end of the conversation. Desperately wanting to make a selection for her.
Roadblock: "What do you mean you don't care? Why don't you care? Pizza is your favorite!"
Are you there God? It's me, Maureen. I need a miracle in aisle 15.
Roadblock: "Okay, I'm walking away. Guess you didn't want another one that much."
As I finally grabbed the pepperoni and cheese I'd been staring down (so close, yet so far away), I thought about the pizza dejection I'd just witnessed. Roadblock went from high to low pretty quickly, and all because her husband was probably focused on waxing the car or watching the ball game. I mean, how could she expect him to get that excited about a frozen pizza? And then throw it back in his face when he didn't?
And what of me? Innocent bystander. Pizza dejection witness. Well, I learned a few things. Like, for example, while it's sweet to try to keep love in the air by pleasing your partner, it shouldn't be at the expense of your own mental health. I mean, if he's not happy with the meat lover's, that means more for you! Am I right? Ladies?
In the end, the wait was worth it. A delicious pizza and material for a blog post. That's almost better than double coupon days or free sample Fridays.
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