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Aug 14, 2009 4:29 pm

On the way back to the homestead after work the other day, and the Bride of My Youth calls me.  We need milk, bread, flax seed, rennet, freshly grated cardamum, loin of lemur, a six pound bag of saffron, etc., you know - just the basics, and she's not going to leave the house for the 47th time that day with the kids to run that down, and can I stop off and pick up those essentials?  No problemo, mi senorita bonita.

Dilemma - I've already motored past the uber cool new Publix, and a quick glance over at the parking lot of the Wally World Stupor Center showed it was overflowing and they were using V-22 Ospreys as parking shuttles, so that's a no-go.  The basic Winn-Dixie is just up ahead, but on the wrong side of road, and the left turn lane has Shriners stalking up and down shaking down motorists with threats of setting children on fire if we don't choke up a handful of coin, so I didn't want to do that. 

Quick thinker that I am, I remember the Helping Hands Discount Grocery Outlet is just ahead, and on the right side of the road, so that becomes the plan.  Surely the loin of lemur will be just as fresh there as 'twould be at Publix...   Pulling up next to one of the two cars in the lot that was not actually on fire or spewing vital fluids in a high pressure arc across 4 parking spots, I strode manfully past the group of elderly women who were rolling up and smoking their scratch off Lotto tickets, muscled open the sliding door using the rope of plastic produce bags which was looped through the frame of one of the panels, and entered therein.  Like a set of night vision goggles, the Hunter/Gatherer instincts clicked on and immediately heightened my senses, and I began to smell smells and hear noises that otherwise would go undetected to the common, modern man.  The subtle odor of cabbage as it enters the Collapsing In Upon Itself stage; the viscous, rubbery "pop" as a bead of moisture turns loose from the corner of the chicken thigh package and begins its journey at 32 ft/sec/sec toward the pool of what looks like pink pudding on the floor beneath the edge of the refrig case; the gentle lowing of the herd of fresh-from-the-unemployment-office-and-disability-attorneys-consultations 439 pound breeders as they shuffle toward the Little Debbies, their sweat pants smoldering at the edge of combustion from the friction 'twixt their mighty hams.   All this around me, and yet I'm not distracted from my mission.  I snatch once, twice, thrice, and yet once more, and with a rasping metallic shriek, the buggy springs free from its obscene carnal embrace of its twin before it.  Wiping the mysterious fluid from the shattered plastic grip with the coupon clipper page stuck to the side of the buggy, I urge it forward to the best of my ability, and begin the journey across the gum streaked floor, my progress taking on the appearance of a Cessna 210 crabbing around to a final approach with a 35 knot crosswind down the whole length of the 'slope.   Securing each item on the list after a squeaking, rattling journey up and down the pocked linoleum battlefield, I track obliquely into line at the first available outprocessing station.  As my time at the register came closer and closer, I became more aware of the conversations taking place between the checkout staff.   Example #1 - "So, I showed this rash right here (she raises the bottom of her shirt and pulls down the top of her lycra pants about 8 inches each way) to my probation officer and he says that he'll rub some ointment on it for me if I'll bring it next time..."   Example #2 - "These are the best pit bull pups we've ever had.  I've got them in the trunk outside, you wanna buy one?"   Example #3 - "When momma stopped by the house last night, she almost drove right over little Kaitlyn in her yard pool, she was so drunk.."   I exited the store, my confidence in mankind restored, with a great new seminar idea.....   "Bull Markets, Bear Markets and Pit Bull Pups - The Michael Vick Plan for Financial Success"
Aug 14, 2009 4:55 pm

I laughed so hard I spewed my Dr. Pepper from my nose.  Sir, will you write the copy for my next radio spot?

Aug 14, 2009 5:22 pm

Your posts never cease to ammuse me. 

  Isn't is amazing the different variety of supermarkets that you can encounter?  Movie theaters are the same way.  You've got your high end "imax" statdium style ones, and the "what is my leg stuck too" shatholes.
Aug 14, 2009 5:41 pm

OK, WMT question.  Is it a regional thing, or do your WMTs have like 40 lanes installed, but only 4 of them open at any one time?  It kills me to have to wait in line for 15 minutes to check out when there are 36 other lanes that could have some minimum wage earning miscreant ringing up my purchases.  Why do they spend the money if they’re not going to utilize the stations.  And when they remodeled our local WMT recently and took out the self checkout lines, it just pissed me off. 

  Great piece of prose beemer. 
Aug 14, 2009 5:52 pm

You live in Florida don’t you?

Aug 15, 2009 2:34 am

Beemer I can almost see the 1986 F150 4x4 lifted, riding on mudders and covered in same.

  I've got my own Florida supermarket story. I kidnapped my daughter out of a Publix in Lantana Florida. Messy divorce/custody case that dragged on for years. When the ex lost she took off for parts unknown taking my daughter with her. Interesting thing back then is that the courts in one state wouldn't act  if the minor was in another state. It took me three months but i tracked down my fugitive ex-wife without the help of the limp law enforcement establishment. Then with address in hand the Jersey police and courts wouldn't act. My daughter had been kidnapped, yet no action! The y told me get my daughter back in Jersey and they would act. They didn't tell me just how that was supposed to happen? Against the advice of council, who told me i was surely going to end up incarcerated, i went to Florida to get my daughter out of danger.  The first two trips were futile. I was just missing them as the moved from place to place. Finally, they settled and i got a good address. I flew to the sunshine state once more. I tracked down the address, cased the shabby neigborhood and found a place to wait. Once i saw the neighborhood i realized i was in the wrong kind of car. I waited a block away from 1052 south D street in West Palm Beach  in a blazing hot rental Lincoln for a week for my chance to grab my kid. My wife and her new husband didn't go out of the house for a week! Who doesn't go out for a week? Probably too stoned! Anyway, finally, after a week, out they go. Hubby goes one way and Ex-wifey drives right past me with my daughter in the car. I go to pull out but  a Velda Bluehair jams her car between us. We get to an intersection and the fugitive turns right and is now out of sight. Velda, who has her right turn signal on,  decides to wait for the light. Not only that she doesn't even pull forward to the intersection.  This wasn't going to do! i was a desperate man. Desperate men do desperate things. First i laid on the horn, but got no response, so i inched the nose of the big towncar up to Velda's bumper and pushed her up and over railroad tracks and thru the effing intersection. i then jammed my car into reverse to get seperation, jammed back into drive while still going backwards and the tires squirmed and smoked as i swung the car hard right and floored it. I left Hertz' grill at the intersection with a piece of the rubber bumper moulding and the left turn signal lense. This is where the long straight flat highways of SE Florida worked in my favor. And U.S.1 in Lantana is as straight as an arrow. A half mile up the road i could see the Metalic Blue Country Squire with the Jersey plates just as it was making a right turn. I followed but lost them after the turn. However, on my right was a Publix and going for a parking space was the Ford wagon. I  pulled in and then waited a few minutes. What was i going to do? I was going into that store and getting my daughter. What happened next was almost comical. I went into the store and had to crouch my 6 foot 2 inch frame down because apparently this publix had the pigmy shelving units that allowed you to see from one end of the store to the other. You gotta be kiddin' me! Finally, near the front of the store my daughter asked ex if she could get some gum. With this she ran up to the cashiers ilse. I stepped out into the open but was hidden from ex by a display rack. My 8 year old daughter turned and saw me. Her mouth dropped open, the gum hit the floor as she stood there. She glanced at mom. The moment of truth! I opened my arms palms up and then waved her towards me. She ran to me. I picked her up and then promptly tried to run out the in door of the market. An incoming shopper opened the door and out we went. I got her in the car and calmly drove out of the lot. The entrance to Northbound I95 was right there and i hit it like a bank robber who had just pulled a heist. I stopped once for gas in Florida and didn't stop again until i hit the Georgia border. I called the Lantana PD to let them know I had my daughter, that she had been kidnaped from NJ and that i was taking her back. I informed them that this was a legal matter and that my daughter was a ward of the NJ Superior court. I called my mother and had her call my ex to tell her that our daughter was all right. Two weeks later a judge in nj granted me full custody, threw the entire book, bench and courtroom at my ex. He was pissed. So it went in the 80s, before sanity took over and made it a criminal offense to do what my wife did. Today what she did is considered kidnapping. It was kidnapping then to, just no with a badge cared. To this day my daughter thanks me for what i did. I got her out of hell.   The fallout was that the Lantana PD wanted to charge me with kidnapping but backed off when they found out i wasn't the bad guy. Interestingly, witnesses reported seeing a yellow Colony Park wagon with jersey plates speed out of the parking lot and an APB had been issued for that car. That car, registered to one of my businesses, was in NJ. Hertz wanted to know why their Lincoln was returned damaged 1000 miles north of where it should have been. Velda, had a cool story to tell and maybe a scratched bumper on her Plymouth Volare. The nose of the townie slid under her bumper as i pushed her. The grill took a hit, but i'm sure her car was fine as long as she hadn't peed herself.   The prequel to this is that my ex was a serious drug abuser and had no business bringing up a child. Years of dragging this thing through the courts had brought the only decision a sane judge could render, custody goes to the father. That's when she skipped without a trace. The sequel to this is that she turned her life around, became a successful business woman and rebuilt her relationship with our daughter.   I know my story isn't funny, it's sad, but it's real. And it is a supermarket story.
Aug 15, 2009 4:18 am

[quote=Spaceman Spiff]OK, WMT question.  Is it a regional thing, or do your WMTs have like 40 lanes installed, but only 4 of them open at any one time?  It kills me to have to wait in line for 15 minutes to check out when there are 36 other lanes that could have some minimum wage earning miscreant ringing up my purchases.  Why do they spend the money if they’re not going to utilize the stations.  And when they remodeled our local WMT recently and took out the self checkout lines, it just pissed me off. 

  Great piece of prose beemer.  [/quote]
Hey Spiff, you're in St Louis aren't you?  Take your WMT question straight to my old St Lous based rocket scientist and Mensa member Field Supervision Director, Mary O'Connell Smith.  Check out her U4 on FINRA's broker check.   What else does she do when she ends her full day of pissssssssing me off with her infinitely ignorant repetitive  FSPENDS?* She works at Wal Mart.  That's right        MY PINHEAD FSD IS A WALLY WORLD CASHIER and I suspect whatever they're paying her they're getting ripped off. 

For you more fortunate NON Jonsers, a FSPEND is a Field Supervision Pending message issued by the paranoid FA flunkees of the Sales Prevention Department.  Unfortunately, this IS necessary given how Jones' business model is dumbed down for the lowest common denominator of 23 year old recent college grads to plop down at a desk and generate that multi level marketing cash flow for the GPs.  FSPENDS demand  "Why was this trade placed?  Is the client aware of the risks?  Did you have the client sign a risk letter?  If so, which one?  Please have the client sign yada yada paranoid risk letter and fax it in..." 

Example... 90 year old client (with no kids and pretty much on his death bed) had inherited WAG 60 years ago that has now grown to $700k representing 30% (only!) of net worth.  FSPEND demands response to "Is client aware of risks?  Does client intend to sell or gift shares? If not, please forward signed risk acknowledgment letter."  Look if you're afraid of the heirs suing us just solicit or incent the client to sell shares with near zero cost basis when they do not need the money, generate 60 years worth of latent cap gains, then client dies and heir's sue because they could have had a stepped up cost basis.  Now THERE's your risk guys. 

Look, I understand E.V.E.R.Y. firm has their own Sales Prevention Departments but Jones' parameters are set on hyper paranoia sensitivity and then such Mensa members like Wally World Mary just don't catch on or back down in their inane demand for documentation.  Could it be me?  Am I a maverick on the fringe?  You would not believe what a clean plain vanilla business I run.

I also understand WHY Jones operates like this.  You've got to be paranoid of liability when the majority of your workforce are kindergarten level FAs that are churned through the puppy mill in the name of growth, growth growth.

Aug 15, 2009 10:48 pm

You live in Florida don’t you?

*cue a big Ed McMahon guffaw*
"You are correct sir."
Aug 15, 2009 10:50 pm

BondGuy, very interesting story, now that the statute of limitations has passed! Is your real name d*** Wolf, because I could swear I saw that episode on “Law and Order.”

Aug 16, 2009 1:31 pm

BondGuy, very interesting story, now that the statute of limitations has passed! Is your real name d*** Wolf, because I could swear I saw that episode on “Law and Order.”

  before my ex skipped my case was closer to Kramer versus Kramer.   When people heard thru the grapevine what had happened they asked me to tell the story. It really is "way out there kinda stuff." But that's the way it was in the early 80's. A parent could skip with a child and it was the left alone parent's problem. No one would help. Imagine your kids disappearing without a trace. Even if it was a relative or ex-spouse, what would you do, how would you act? More so, if you knew the person who had them would put the kids in danger. That was my situation. Today, law enforcement would solve the problem for me and my kid would be back in state with a few days, at most. Back then you were on your own.   Interestingly, a friend of a friend who was an FBI agent wanted to know how i found them( i kept following leads generated from the garbage they left after they skipped, key was a phone bill). After telling him, he asked me to tell the story to fellow agents. That was kinda cool.   Yeah, i know this story is way out there, sorry i hijacked your thread with it. I hear Publix and it all floods back.
Aug 16, 2009 7:14 pm

[quote=Wet_Blanket] You live in Florida don’t you?[/quote]

cue a big Ed McMahon guffaw
“You are correct sir.”

  My suspicions were confirmed when you named Winn Dixie.