Shop till you plop.

"This is my biggest shopping day of the year, and you get to be the cashier!" I told the nice lady in the hijab. "Aren't you lucky?"

"I'm sorry, I did not hear you," she said. "Why am I being lucky?"

It's never any good to explain a joke, worse a bad one, worse still one that seems to have the possible element of sexual harassment. Still, I explained again that the Friday before Thanksgiving was the day I bought the most groceries, and wasn't she lucky to have to cash out all this stuff. Words to that effect, anyway.

You'd think being a fan of James Lileks's Bleat might keep me from awkward cashier interactions.

I don't want to say it was an unpleasant experience; far from it. I like grocery shopping, and it was all Christmas music yesterday, and I think my late parents and grandparents probably did the programming. Name another time of the year you hear the Andrews Sisters or Rosemary Clooney on the supermarket PA system, never mind "There's Always Tomorrow" from Rudolph.

But by the time I dragged myself out to the car, cart loaded and two extra bags on my arm (which turned out to be the side where I had the car key, of course), I was glad to be heading home.

I went on Friday to avoid all the people doing their shopping before Thanksgiving on Saturday or Sunday. We'll all probably meet up at the Wednesday Panic Forgot Something Crucial Event next week anyhow. That's always fun. "YOU'RE OUT OF TURKEY-SIZE OVEN BAGS? WHAT IS THIS, VENEZUELA?" And fighting the celery-hoarding pigs.

So it pushed me back, and I had three projects due out the door Friday afternoon. Well, technically only two were due out, but the third was so boring that I felt like I had been working on it since childhood, and I was determined to see the end of it. Fortunately, it all worked out.

If you're celebrating Thanksgiving, and doing the cooking, I hope you will be able to find all the ingredients for all your dishes. Even the crap for the green bean casserole. If you must. 🤮 Happy hunting, pilgrims!