Impulse Buying Stimulated

Sitting there, Sunday morning, I put on "Songbird," by Barbra Streisand.

I needed to open the blinds and let sunlight in the place, and to put "Songbird" on.

I had messed up the night before and looked in shame at the cellophane wrappers, evidence of 3 separate trips to the candy machine, two from white frosted doughnuts and one from a Honey Bun® 

I had been a sugar crazed fool, the night before.

I was brewing strong coffee and washing the frosted doughnuts down with it; this in an attempt to prolong the evening by transitioning from alcohol to coffee, the way the Russians would do, when I lived with them.

They would sit around the table, consuming several "courses" of food, with a pickle-biting shot of vodka in between each one.

My stepson at the time, Michael, showed me the pickle procedure.

It was something like: bite the pickle, then gulp down the Smirnov, then immediately thereafter, inhale the pickle fumes through the nose.

It was something like that; bite, swallow, snort. Or maybe you swallow, then bite. I'm going to have to Google that. Maybe there is even a Russian term for it.

These pickle snorting shots came every 45 minutes or so, like they are supposed to, when one drinks; based upon that theory that it takes an hour for each "drink" to get out of your system. After 3 hours, and 3 shots, they would do a fourth one and then sit around talking, and picking at the food, until some time approaching midnight, when strong coffee would be served, to keep everyone awake while they drove home, of course, and probably as the hostess way of politely nudging the company along.

But, I had switched to strong coffee and powdered doughnuts, at some point, before at some point lying down on the bed and dozing off.

At least I could blame it on the 4 empty bottles of Sierra Nevada Juicy, Hazy IPA that stood on the counter as if watching a nearby lamb roast thaw out.

I had made the mistake of throwing the whole 3 pound thing in the freezer after I got back from the store. I should have cut it into 3 or 4 smaller portions and froze them separately.

It was a 12 dollar piece of lamb, and now it was all thawed out and would all have to be cooked. I suppose I could have roasted the thing, and then cut it into 3 or 4 pieces to go in the refrigerator, and not the freezer. Amazing, to be just figuring these things out at the age of 58.

I keep forgetting to bring my canvas shopping bag type thing with me when I go to Whole Foods. 

This is mostly because I often decide to go there, after having had a couple beers along my journey.

I now take for granted the fact that one can drink in public in Orleans Parrish, Louisiana. This makes it convenient to grab a beer from anywhere and just sip it as you walk down the street on your way. I can remember the police in St. Augustine, Florida actually creeping around the backs of stores that had nothing but woods behind them, trying to catch the homeless people "drinking in public" back there, out of sight of everyone.

So, if I grab a 24 ounce Heineken at the store down the street, and then start walking towards Broad Street, to get food for Harold, probably. I will be just in the right frame of mind, upon reaching a certain corner, to go to Whole Foods to get cash back; for white powdered doughnuts, at the bare minimum. This is when I will wish I had brought my canvas shopping bag.

The paper bags that they give you at Whole Foods is weak paper, because it has been recycled, ostensibly to save trees. So, then they have to double them. TIMBER!!

If you are leaving Whole Foods on foot and it begins to downpour, you might as well make a bee-line for the nearest plastic bags to grab, unless you don't mind having to carry your groceries most of the way home, cradling them like a baby.

I have had a large bottle of "organic" vinegar fall through the bottom of a bag and shatter on the pavement after some frozen item in the same bag's condensation made mush of the paper. I have had the handles on them break just from hopping off a curb onto the road. That's was me, gathering hormone free, fairly sourced items off the asphalt in the rain, while horns honked..

to whole foods "on the fly," not thinking of going there when leaving the apartment, but developing the urge to get cash back from there, after having a couple beers.

This would be for a sack of weed, or worse.

I made a fast recovery, aided by Barbra, and