I almost killed an old man with my groceries

Sometimes I think I’m the most ridiculous person I know.

And then I remember who my friends are.

But that’s getting off-topic.

I decided to do a massive trip to Costco, because the only way to do Costco is in massive trips, and because the only food in my apartment was some rice, some cornmeal (awaiting being made into hush puppies), and the ingredients for chocolate chocolate-chip pancakes.

In preparation, I packed a few good-sized plastic bags plus my drawstring-sports-bag into a backpack, and headed off to the store of bulky bulk purchases.

I meandered through the aisles, eventually deciding that I didn’t need 136 oz of ketchup but I would take the 8-pack of canned olives thankyouverymuch, and checked out.

And tried to cram everything into my bags.  Which I did almost successfully, but was left to carry the 8-pack of canned tomatoes in the crook of an arm–an arm that was shaking halfway through the trip.

They were heavier than they look...my back is really sore today!

A grand total of 1 1/2 people offered to help me through my 10 minute walk, 50 minute subway ride with two transfers, and bus ride home.  Yay Korea!

(I say 1/2 because I set two bags on the ground when I tried to maneuver my way through the subway turnstile, and a woman handed them back to me, shaking her head and probably muttering about how crazy foreigners are.)

Oh, the title.

So at the first subway transfer, there was a mass-rush of people coming down the stairs as I was trying to go up, so rather than get jostled and pushed and generally swung around by the 6 bags hanging off of various body parts, I nestled up to the side of the very-wide stairwell and let everyone pass.

Then an old man tried to go around behind me, got his foot caught on a grocery bag, and splayed out diagonally in front of me.  In my defense, I’m pretty sure he was already drunk.  Mostly because he was carrying a little meal-box from McDonald’s.  He was also really out of it but that could have been from the fall…

As a reward–for making it home, not for almost breaking the man’s legs–I made myself a smoothie with my newly-purchased frozen blueberries.

Yeah, I spilled. It's what I do. Gracefulness is overrated.

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One response

  1. Pingback: Don’t wait to start living. It doesn’t taste as good. « rachelshae

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