My Lunch Hour: Also known as that 30 minute window when my diet coke habit almost got me arrested.

It’s been a while. But life’s been boring. Not today!

Building management sent an email. October is fire drill month. All I think is “Oh great, it’ll probably be a rainy day and we’ll be stuck outside for 40 minutes because of some malfunction” forgetting that fire drills mean firefighters. And forgetting that the firefighters in Bedford are hot. My bread was moldy last night (a rapid change in topic, but it swings back. Promise). I packed the turkey and cheese and decided I would run to Stop and Shop at lunch and pick up some bread. I walked out of the office and as I did, the firefighters were coming downstairs. So difficult not to stare. I got in my car and while driving by them saw that they looked to be in the ready-to-monitor-fire-drill-evacuation stance. Then I realized I was going to miss the fire drill. Oh well. Then I realized that I would miss the opportunity to maybe sneak a couple pictures for some firefighter obsessed friends while we were all milling around outside. I think about going back. But the firemen just saw me leave. And then won’t care that I came back so quick. But someone in my office might ask. I need a plan. Oh! Forgot my debit card. (Totally plausible because I do that all the time!). As I’m driving back into the parking lot I see the fire trucks are leaving. And the lights are on. Apparently a fire outranks them walking around while the women of office buildings stare (This is ridiculously shallow. But they are that good looking.) I turned around again, and headed to the store. I found a parking spot. I walked in. I only needed bread and advil, so I grabbed a paper bag and a self scanner thingy (sorry to get so technical on you). Then I see a display. Four 12 packs of diet coke for $11. The debate started in my head. We need more in the apartment. You can get it cheaper at Wal Mart But that’s a box that doesn’t fit in the fridge This is supposed to be a quick trip for bread It’s on sale! Ok fine. I went over to get a cart. And the scanner thingy started screaming!! And flashing! And typing angry messages at me. It wants to be returned to a rack. I don’t know what that means. Clearly this is for the idiot that forgets to put it back after paying (not me yet, but I feel it coming someday) so it must go on a rack by the cash registers. But it didn’t stop. Luckily customer service is right there and they told me, very nicely, “oh, it goes back to the main rack”. Their facial expressions were even sympathetic! Because now I had to recross the 50 feet (really 15) back to the rack. And the thing is beeping and I’m trying to find a speaker to cover and mumbling under my breath for it to be quiet. Because people are going to look around for the noise and see me mumbling to a hunk of plastic and metal. I plug it in and the beeping stops. Now I have to rescan my card and get another scanner thingy but it’s ok. Because I’ve got cheap diet coke. I grab the diet coke, the bread, the advil, and some Halloween candy to take to a meeting later (my theme this week is sugar up the Alpha Gam undergrads and then leave). The self check lanes are all full of lunchtime people getting things like salads etc. But the regular lines are empty. I pull in and go to scan the bar code that says “I’m Done” and the cashier lady asks me “so what was wrong with the scanner earlier” This woman is literally 60 feet from the door (no exaggeration this time) and she noticed and remembered that 10 minutes ago I was the crazy girls mumbling to the scanner thingy. Humiliation number two!

Maybe diet coke didn’t almost get me arrested. But I am feeling a little traumatized.

The diet coke is worth it.

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