Gotta Get Out More

And, I WOULD get out more, if, one or two days a week, everybody else would stay home or at their various jobs. I don't get out much by design, because people piss me off, and usually, if I get out several days in a row, somebody is bound to do it.

So, I went to the grocery store Tuesday morning. This is my normal schedule, then I don't have to go again for another week. So, nothing unusual happened at the grocery store.

Wednesday afternoon, I got my hair cut. I read about a hairdresser, somewhere who didn't have a salon, I don't think. She just went around to her clients' houses, carrying all the supplies she needed with her, like house cleaning services do. Seems to me this would be a good idea. Except, I like my hairdresser and he doesn't make house calls.

Anyhoodle, Snipper, ( that's not his name, but I like to protect the innocent) washed my hair and was making good time cutting away when he dropped the comb. It started to slide down my front, and without thinking, he took out after it. He patted me down like a cop searching for concealed weapons. When he realized what he was doing, he got embarrassed and finally, started laughing hysterically. I may have added to his hysteria when I said, "No one has done that to me in 25 years!"

Well, that lowered the level, so, naturally we started talking about Governor "Pays-Way-Too-Much for it" Spitzer. By the time he got through drying my hair, everyone in the place (it's a small salon) was howling with laughter.

When I got to the car, Jay said, "I could hear you all laughing all the way out here in the parking lot." He should have gotten there earlier, and come in and watched the show.

Thursday, we went to the Target store in Branson to cash in some gift cards. Nothing exceptional happened except that I bought a new electric skillet. Some guy in the parking lot was having a conversation with himself. He would say something, then pause, head cocked to the side like he was listening, then he'd talk again. But, that's the only strange thing that happened.

Then, we went to Red Lobster, where he graciously shared his gift card with me. It took forever to get our entrees, and the waiter tried to float the idea that it was because it takes a long time to hand-bread the shrimp I had ordered. Now, I don't know how they do it, but I can hand bread a lot more than 6 itty-bitty shrimp in the 30-40 minutes it took them. I had also ordered broiled scallops, and while you know I'm not one to complain, but have you ever looked at those broiled scallops they serve? They are broiled in their own little dish and are about the size of a 3 carat diamond. Furthermore, they are uniform in size. Scallops don't clone each other, do they? And, do they really come that small?

I read somewhere that if you are served scallops that are uniform in size and shape, they are probably some other kind of fish, cut up to resemble scallops. So, have I caught you out, Red Lobster? Did I have an "AHA!" moment? We'll probably never know.

Since nothing really dreadful happened in any of my outings this week, I may try it again in a couple of weeks. At least, it gives me something to write about.