The Word

I escaped Brooklyn (narrowly) last Wednesday. The one day I am looking to fly to the Midwest and I am plagued by a tornado on the east coast. Figures. Also, as I was trudging in the humidity and heat with my suit case, trying to find some sort of transport (as the subways were down and for some reason all the cabs seemed MIA… no cabs to be found in New York?!? figures) my bridesmaid dress fell out of the “garment bag” (aka garbage bag) and I rolled over it was frustrated vigor. I roughed up some of the sateen fibers, which meant there was little to nothing I could do to mend. Figures again. I finally reached the airport to be greeted with some of the most insane lines I have ever encountered in all my travels. Figures, figures, figures. However, I did, as I said, escape the city in a grand hurrah and landed in Minneapolis.

I had such a wonderful time at my cousins wedding. A whirlwind as I flew in Wednesday night, had a full day of pampering, rehearsing, and grooms-dinner-ing on Thursday, wedding on Friday, brunch on Saturday, my other cousin’s baby shower on Sunday, and drove to Fergus Falls, home to my parents, on Sunday.

Sunday evening my parents white van rolled into the local grocery store, Service Foods, to get some bacon for BLTs that evening. My father went inside to purchase. I told my mom I would like some faux bacon as I am trying to cut back on my meat intake. She went inside to ask. The limited Boca section did not have bacon, and I believe the woman who helped her stated something like, “that doesn’t go over too well with people in these parts” or some such…maybe she also had a shotgun… who really knows. The point my father came out with the purchased bacon and we went home. He asked me what I would like to dine on the following evening: venison, ducks, goose, etc etc etc. I mentioned I have been pretty veggie lately and trying to cut back on my meat. He was startled. A little shocked.

“Ahhh...I was TOLD that.”

????

Yes folks. Fifteen minutes earlier (mere moments after I rolled into town) the grocer who helped my mother veggie out-ed me to my father. He of course denied it to the end, “You must be mistaken… not MY daughter….” and left the confused women.

The good word travels fast, and I knew I was back in Small Town, USA.