I hate Safeway, but occasionally I shop there because it's near. I made that mistake today. When will I ever learn? I just wanted some steak and two baking potatoes. What they had loose in the bin were obese misshapen caricatures of potatoes, ghastly castoffs. What they sold in a package sealed tightly in plastic were regular-sized baking potatoes, which they called "Little Bakers." Four to a goddamn package!! With a picture on the front of a potato stuffed with vegetables - in case you didn't know what a potato was.
Well, I wasn't going to put up with that so I ripped open the package and took out the two I wanted. I put them in my cart and went up to the front. The cashier smiled at me. I smiled back and said nothing. She rang up the two potatoes and the steak. "You've saved two dollars shopping at Safeway!" she informed me. You bet I have, I thought, as I sailed triumphantly out of the store. I hope they find that desecrated package and weep, the chiseling motherfuckers.
To soften the savage tone of this blog entry, I will give you Bob's poem:
Potatoes
Modest, unassuming, easily mashed, but not wimpy,
Potatoes are loyal and honest, especially with butter.
Sour cream brings out their sardonic side while
A dip in hot oil makes them garrulous.
Though inhospitable at first, potatoes soften
With affection, familiarity and boiling water.
Potatoes are our friends, but shy. They hide
In the ground with earthworms and moles.
If Buddha were a vegetable, he’d be a potato.
The Zen student asks: What is the mind of the Buddha? The master says: The taste of a raw potato.
ReplyDeleteLike when I confronted beets offered with their greens by the pound ; my Leatherman resolved the
problem.