Yesterday it was so lovely. I had the balcony door open much to the delight of the cats. I cracked the windows. Even though there was a still a chill in the air, it was refreshing.
I played Mariah Carey and cleaned the apartment.
I had to run to Harris Teeter, as my supply of diet coke with lime was running low. I had two options, walk over or drive. And in lieu of the crazy eyed red car man incident the other day, I decided to drive.
(Note: A man who probably gets paid by the government for his being touched by an angel, came staggering up to me last week in the parking lot of our complex. I was unloading groceries from the back of the car, and he just stood staring at me. His tobbaggan was askew and looping off his head at the top. He was smiling, as he swaggered my way. I knew some of his crayons were missing from his 64 pack box o' crayolas, but he didn't care. He looked like he'd hug too hard and once he broke into laughter, he wouldn't be able to stop. His eyes were dark an unsettling, and lo and behold, I was parking right beside his little red.....honda? Anyways, I was so startled by his staring, his somewhat sinister smile, and his toboggan hat that I actually got back into my car, and locked the doors. I was ready to pull off if Mr. Crazy-go-Nuts tried to pull a fast one. I don't know if he took that to mean that I was revving my engine for an old school drag race, but he hopped in his car and drove away. Yeah, I was shocked, too, that Maryland granted him a drivers license. Since that incident, I've decided to drive, not walk to the H.T.)
Anyway, I made it to my car, and over to Harris Teeter without so much a sniff of Mr. Looney Tunes. I walk into the H.T. and right before my eyes in all it's pastel array of beauty, are the Easteries, and the Passoveries that they have on magnificent display.
All located right by the floral department, where bouquets of springy flowers seemed to burst forth out of their water filled holding buckets. The Hydrangea and the daffodils seemed to be singing sweetly to the reese's eggs, the hershey's variety packs, the mooshy gross marshmallow eggs only Michael and my Grandma buy.
I was torn away from the candy to admire the floral displays.
It made me miss Michael, and the way he always brings me 'just because' bouquets. The sweet way he presents them to me, sometimes holding them behind his back, sometimes holding them out like a little boy.
I admired the flowers, the bunnies, the kosher macaroons, the cadbury eggs, the big boxes of Matza.
There I was, so giddy. I love spring. Everything seems so.....new. Like the world is reborn. Not a hustle-bustle like in Autumn, but a slow moving burst of color. People crawl out from under their winter bunker blinking in the sunlight and stretch off the cold.
The old man sniffing stinky cheeses at the obnoxiously expensive cheese corral didn't annoy me. Even though he stood in my way. The kid telling his dad the he wanted chocolate carrots, and the dad told him that there was no such thing didn't annoy me. (Althought I did want to say "There is too sucha thing! Lindt makes them, which means your kid has good taste in chooclate. They are shaped like little delicious umbrellas. Did you NOT see the Easter Candy explosion that greeted you as you walked in the door? Get the kid a chocolate carrot, man!")
Nothing or nobody was gonna break-a my stride, and nobody was gonna hold me down, oh no.
Even the fact that I had to choose Diet Pepsi with Lime didn't truly make me upset. Despite the fact that it is dis-gust-ing.
I paid for my purchases, and walked back out into the sunny day.
It was then that I saw the hubbub. The commotion. The ballyhoo. The hullabaloo. And I wondered, "What's all the the big stink about?"
It was pandemonium, people were walking, power walking, and a dad & his 4 year old daughter were skipping with the pompatus of joy.
I decided that I needed, no I HAD to uncover the root of the cause of this bruhaha.
But it did not take me long, nay. Not long at all.
Because as soon as the word bruhaha entered my mind, the answer, like a light bulb appeared over my head.
RITAS.
I didn't even have to see Ritas in her little nook of the shopping center. I just knew.
It had lay in abandon since labor day, forgotten and silent.
But they were open. I threw Pepsi's lame attempt to cash in on Diet Coke with Lime's masterpiece into the back seat of the Escape, and I ran in slow mo to the Ice-Custard-Happiness Stand while Chariots of Fire's Theme played... in my head. (Ok, ok, I'm glamourizing it. I didn't run. I just walked, but I tell you, I did so gingerly.)
I stood in line behind other equally excited patrons. Some people sticking to traditional flavors keeping it gloriously simple, while some went right in for the middle of summer mix up. (
Which personally, I think mixing flavors should be worked up to, not diving in head first at the inauguration of the season, but when it comes to Italian Ice/Frozen custard/gelati/blendinis....anything goes.)
I ordered my regular sized Frozen Vanilla custard, with a lid. No sprinkles this time, baby steps.
And I drove it back home, keeping my eyes shifting to sniff out ol' Mr. Shifty Eyes himself.
I went up the stairs carrying my dessert like it was a trophy, proud despite of the fact that in the other hand, I was holding diet soda.
No comments:
Post a Comment