TheBanyanTree: A New Year's Tale

[Monique Young]

There was to be a New Year's Tale regarding memories of Mission City and
their penchant for delaying Christmas celebrations for a week, when it was
75% off, and there may still be, but I was sidetracked by this evening's
events. After a productive trip to the dog park, where Ash and Honey decided
wading through mud was a good idea, we came home and I took a nap. When I
woke up, I found my family eagerly anticipating my waking up so we could go
see the lights at the Bellevue Botanical Gardens. We couldn't do it earlier
because it must be dark in order to see lights. One of those kinds of
things. So managed to wake me up, pile the dogs in the car, and off we went.

 
http://www.bellevuebotanical.org/events/fmevents_gardendlights.htm. The
lights were cool. No rain today, so good viewing weather. Looking at the
pretty lights in the rain is not as festive as looking at the pretty lights
in dry weather. The dogs were allowed only a preliminary view of the
gardens, then had to be placed in the car so we could see the rest - they
were still tired from the dog park so they were happy. 

                Then we went home, with a planned pit stop at Safeway to get
firelogs. For a fire. Must have a new year's fire, doncha know. I waited in
the car with the dogs, and the love of my life went in the store, after we
decided we also needed Aleve and Advil and sparkling cider. 

                And the dogs and I waited. 

                People came and parked next to us, went in the store, came
out again and left. More  people came, parked, went in, and came out again
and then left. The dogs and I grew impatient. Well, mostly it was me. I
wanted to get home and write my New Year's Tale about Mission City. More
people came and went. We hadn't brought our ubiquitous  cell phones, so I
couldn't call to see if he'd become a victim of amnesia, or had lost his way
between produce and dairy, or if he'd resorted to searching for something
innocuous that wasn't easily found and might not even exist. 

                I don't wait well, unless I have something to read, in which
case I can entertain myself for hours and not mind, and might even, if I'm
engrossed, hope that I have even more time to sit quietly and read, but I
had nothing with me to read, and nothing with me to write with, so instead I
stewed in my own impatience. It is not a pretty sight.

                Finally, after seeing approximately 2,000 people come and
go, I decided to take action. This was easier said than done as the
passenger side door is slightly broken and I'm not allowed to open it myself
in most cases, but I decided to go ahead and open it anyway, as this seemed
to be an emergency. (He might have been kidnapped by aliens! I had no way of
knowing!) I forced the door open, asked the dogs to please behave themselves
(though they were mostly sleeping and didn't seem inclined to do much of
anything), and I stomped into Safeway, determined to fix the problem. 

                I scanned the aisles as I walked across the front of the
store, and he wasn't in any of the lines to check out. I kept looking and
aha! Stumbled across him. "I can't find the sparkling cider," he said, "They
said it was on aisle 10, but it's not there." He was not, at this time,
anywhere near aisle 10, but had instead, after failing to find it there had
searched other areas of the store. He is not without a certain amount of
persistence that usually results in him finding exactly what he wants.
(Hence, me here now.) 

                We went to aisle 10. I looked at the rows of juices. "It's
not here," I said, "let's go." In the grand scheme of things, sparkling
cider is not absolutely necessary to eat with tonight's dinner of crab. The
important ingredient, the crab, was already at home.

                And as we left aisle 10 I stopped, while he kept going.
"Dear?" I called after him. "Look. Boxes of sparkling cider."

                And there were. Two stacks of boxes of sparkling cider.
Right there. Sitting on the end of the aisle in boxes. No one had had time
to put them on shelves, apparently, but there they were.

                We picked up a bottle and proceeded to checkout. During the
checkout process the cashier dropped the bottle of cider and asked if we
wanted to replace it. It was unbroken, but . . . fizzy. I said, sure, and
that I'd go get another one. They were, after all, right around the corner.
"But this is the last one," she said, "I think we're out." 

                I ignored this, because I knew we were not out. I had to
open the next box because we'd emptied the open one, but I did, and I took
the new bottle of cider back up to the register. "Oh," she said, "I thought
we were out, but I guess no one thought to open the box."

                Well, I can see how that would be a problem. It's not as if
the boxes say "SPARKLING CIDER" on the side or anything.

                Well, actually, they do say exactly that, but that's not the
point. The point is, until I pointed out that the boxes were a mere few feet
away from that particular register people had been coming in and leaving
without their sparkling cider because  everyone was under the impression
that it was all gone because no one thought to look at the boxes.

                I felt like a genius. I'm not, as you may have noticed. I
merely have a nose for sparkling cider. Sometimes this gets me in trouble,
but not often. I think they may hire me as a consultant to find missing
product in the store, if I play my cards right. 

                (But when I asked where the cards were, no one could tell
me.) 

                There is no moral to this New Year's Tale, unless you
consider "Look at all boxes, and not just the shelves, when looking for
something you cannot find" as a moral. Or, "Do not send a man in to do a
woman's job." That's a good moral, but not often true in this family. Or
"Let sleeping dogs lie." That's not really relevant here, but it's still a
good rule of thumb.

                More morals to follow, as they occur.