You know those jackasses who are plugged into their ipods while in line at the grocery store?
That was me today.
I had just left the gym and was still listening to my ipod when “Alive” by Pearl Jam popped up on my playlist as I pulled into the grocery store parking lot. “Son,” she said, “have I got a little story for you.”
I wanted to listen to the story. Eddie Vedder’s nasal tenor voice urged me on. I just needed to grab some tortillas quick. So I did, and made it through self-checkout and back to the parking lot to the refrain of “Uh, huh! You’re still alive! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…”
It was kind of nice.
Now mind you, I had pledged to pull out the earphones if someone tried to speak to me. And I wouldn’t have worn them in a regular line with a cashier because that’s just rude. But there was something kind of zen about grooving to my own music as I took care of a quick errand. I understand why people do it. I do promise not to make it a habit, though. It really is rude.
The tortillas, by the way, are for a special dinner for the Big M. He just started training today with a professional MMA fighter. He’s training for fitness, not for fighting, but still – it’s pretty cool. I’m making him my awesome chicken enchiladas. He’ll need the protein and carbs as he recovers from a very intense workout. And they’re just yummy.
Enchiladas make me happy.
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Flabby Brain 