it was last sunday.
i was holding a conversation with mr. hubby in the dairy section of the supermarket about why butter, generally, is 50% more expensive than a month ago. something about cows not getting enough to eat, it seems. i turned back to my very complicated and mind-boggling decision-making process of selecting a soup pack from an array of japanese 'beansprouts-looking foreign words' which is as alien to me as i am to them.
a lady walked up to me, finger pointed in my face. she was dressed decently, pushing a shopping cart in front of her as she advanced.
lady: were you talking about my cream!!! i've already reported to the police!
huh? who is this looney bin? where did she come from? apparently, nowhere. she just popped out from behind another aisle.
me: what cream? i don't even know you!
lady: i also don't know you. were you talking about my cream?
me: what cream?!
lady: i want to ask you, were you talking about my cream?!
me: i've never met you before! what cream!
i probably should feel some fear. at this point, i get that she's some deranged unstable lady, probably on the brink of losing her 'cream' business to unsatisfied clients looking to file lawsuits against her for the unsuitability of her 'cream. either that, or she thinks she's a cow, because the only creamy thing mr. hubby and i were discussing was milk. a schizophrenic cow roaming the aisle of a supermarket. but all i felt was incredulous bewilderment. i really would love to know more about the 'cream' story but i may just excite her into running at me with a cleaver.
lady: i've never met you before also. were you talking about my cream?
this is getting tiresome. can we skip to the next question?
me: w h a t cream?! should have thought of something more witty like, 'are you a cow?' or 'did you fail in your cream business or something?' but somehow, baiting an unstable deranged person did not seem like a very promising move for my future health and all. i've become addicted to the process of breathing and kind of like staying alive for longer than the next 5 minutes.
seeing that she was getting nowhere, and that she couldn't drive me to the point where i'll join her in her institute for the mentally unstable, she calmly moved on, pushing her cart as she continued with her shopping, pretending that nothing has happened, or perhaps in her own disillusioned mind, nothing indeed happened.
i looked at her with disbelief. next time you go to the supermarket, be careful who is standing next to you, choosing amongst the range of cleavers.
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10 comments:
It definitely wasn't your day huh...
she meant she wanna buy you ice cream!
silence is golden and it applies to even supermarket. but then part of the fun of shopping is the discussion of what to buy & prices of stuff, right?
eh... why do ppl always mistaken u for someone else eh?
dear anon: *sigh* well, it made it more interestinggggg.....
dear wuchy: ice cream from a looney? even if she offered me haagen daz also i don't dare accept.
dear fei: part of the fun is being harassed by a crazy lunatic??? you sure have some funny definition of fun. next time i can refer her to you. :-p
dear zewt: i don't think it was a case of mistaken identity. maybe she heard voices in her head talking about her cream. schizophrenic ppl usually hv that problem (u shld know what i'm talking abt. how is that voice in your head? has it stopped talking yet?) she shouldn't hv come out without eating her medicine!!
Hmm... sounds like a reality show prank! Did u look around for hidden cameras?
Kakaka!! You looked like someone who stole her only jar of La Mer cream!! This has been stressing her out in the last 400 days! Stressful.....
dear jonzz: in which case, isn't there suppose to be a part where they jump out and tell me i'm on camera?? they forgot that part, i think.
dear big pumpkin: headlines. 'stolen la mer causes woman to lose grip on sanity!!'., good publicity for la mer.
*pointing finger in your face again*
"You still talking about my cream here in your blog, right?
....and I still don't know you!!!!"
dear dutch lady aka the chicken: where's your boobs??! *peering here and there* mana ada dutch lady without boobs??!
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