Hanging with the gente (again)

("again" because this is the title of a post from back in December 2005. Creative juices are forming a puddle in my brain)

So after the farmers' market and neighborhood stroll from yesterday I went home to a variety of things that could have been done but simply were not. This morning I slept way in (7am!) and was out the door by 10am (no it does not take me three hours to get ready. Good Lord. What must you think I look like first thing in the morning? On the weekends I like to read the entire internet and drink coffee-related beverages and basically dick around. This morning, however, I only had like 5 cigarettes left so my time was limited. Don't judge. I will be quitting again, truly, but for now, this is how it goes). I needed some groceries, wanted to tan, felt like driving since the sun is out. I DID get to tan, and since I am feeling financially stressed out, I thought I would save a few bucks and go to the Winco instead of the Fred Meyer.

The Winco is one of those "you-bag-it" discount supermarkets, usually not as sparkly clean and often stocked with items you haven't seen in years. They also have a huge Mexican food section, because, well, it's so much cheaper than other supermarkets and, um, well, there is a bigger demand for Mexican products there. Whenever I feel like hanging with the gente, I go to Winco. Today I felt like it.

I'm sure I saved money, but here's the thing: I go to the supermarket earlier on Saturdays so I can avoid crowds, but if I miss and have to go out and do ANYthing on a Sunday that might involve lots of people, I go during "church time". Barbie introduced me to church time once when one Sunday she convinced me to go to Washington Square. Okay, I have a rule: NEVER on a Sunday. Too flipping many people. But at church time, wow. Parking was a breeze, no lines, no meandering mothers with their strollers. Church time can be defined as anywhere from opening time (for the mall) up to about 10:30 or 11am. That's what time people are usually in church (just in case I lost some of you).

Turns out, there is no church time at the Winco. Mexico is like the most Catholic country on the planet, and yet none of these people were in church this morning. Perhaps they lose their faith crossing the border. Or maybe the Spanish-language mass is on Saturday night. I don't know. All I know is there were 4000 people in the Winco this morning and we all know how cranky that makes me.

The scenery was pretty good though. Lots of guapos and all manner of coy eye contact and half smiles. Problem with that, however, is when the inevitable wife shows up, looking haggard and much older than the husband. And, you know, shooting daggers at me and all that. I know, I know, all Mexican men are married, but this is the US - there's always the chance one of them is divorced. Oh well. It was something to do.

Here's another thing about me. I knew I probably should have used the bathroom when I left the house, but apparently I have not grown accustomed to my aging bladder. By the time I was standing in line at the Winco, I was starting to get a little nervous. By the time I got back to my parking garage, I was starting to do the little dance. By the time I got in the elevator, little beads of sweat popped out on my forehead. And by the time I got to the door, opened it up, said hi to the kits, tossed the grocery bags on the kitchen floor and raced into the bathroom, I found myself wondering, How does it know? How does my bladder know I am zeroing in on 15 feet from the toilet? How come it does not become THIS URGENT when I am in the car waiting at the light on Jenkins and Murray? I mean, why, EVERY TIME, does it become sheer panic inducing urgency just as my feet cross the threshold? Is it me? Is this just 42? It's crazy. I just don't remember having to go through this so regularly before.

Okay, so that's my Sunday. I allege I will go out again, maybe visit a sister or a friend or something, but the odds are good I will pick up a book and crash on the sofa. Happy Sunday in June to you all ~