Grocery shopping is something I enjoy. I find it relaxing to cruise up & down the aisles looking for new products and seeing what produce just came out. But it wasn’t fun today because I was forced to listen to an obnoxious, self-centered woman talking on her cell phone… did I say talking? I meant hollering into her cell phone. She sounded like Fran Drescher on crack. Let me put it this way: If the store was on fire and you had to alert everyone on the loud speaker to evacuate or die, she’d be the one to do it… without the loud speaker. Here’s what I was subjected to in the produce department: “Do you want me to get some wine? I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter. Do you want red? I guess white would be okay. Or maybe red would be better. Maybe we don’t need any wine. What are we going to be having? Red then? I don’t know. Maybe white. What? It doesn’t really matter, but if you want red then… blah, blAH, BLAH!!” I’m not kidding, did she have no idea the decibel level of her searing, grating, voice? I finally stopped, unable to focus on my melons, and gave her the evil eye. I’ll just stare her down and maybe she’ll get the message, I thought. No chance. She just glanced at me, oblivious to the gigantic sound waves emanating from her face, and kept yapping. I tried to escape to the fish department and guess who came around the corner? Princess Von Loudenheimer. I swear some of the frozen fish even woke up. I wanted to say “Shut your pie hole!” but that’s not my style. What a shame if her BMW accidently ran over a mysterious pile of nails. I only thought about it. Okay, I didn’t have any nails.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Grocery shopping is something I enjoy. I find it relaxing to cruise up & down the aisles looking for new products and seeing what produce just came out. But it wasn’t fun today because I was forced to listen to an obnoxious, self-centered woman talking on her cell phone… did I say talking? I meant […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1224","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dear-diary"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1224","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1224"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1224\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1228,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1224\/revisions\/1228"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1224"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1224"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyjones.com\/myblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1224"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}