Katdish.net

When I received a reminder email about this week’s blog carnival topic: Memory, I immediately started singing the song Memories made famous by Barbara Streisand, even though I think I probably sounded more like Liza Minelli whist singing it. I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask my dog, since he was the only one fortunate to witness the wonder that is me imitating aging Jewish singers from New York. (Okay, technically Liza Minelli isn’t Jewish, but she could be.)

But beyond my amazing, albeit solitary performance in my office, nothing really came to mind to write about. Oh, sure. I’ve got plenty of memories, but nothing really struck me as blog post worthy. Instead, I thought I would share with readers old and new, quite possibly the most memorable post that has ever graced this blog.

To quote my friend @Marni71, “Oh PCB, we hardly knew thee!”

May I present (or re-present), your friend and mine, the Pornographic Cheese Butler. (Sorry/you’re welcome)

I do NOT heart Grocery Shopping (aka PCB, Part 1)

Here’s something else kind of space/time continuum-ey. When I went shopping Friday afternoon, I had no idea Beth was going to do a post about grocery shopping, nor did I know I would be doing a post about grocery shopping. That is, until I happened to come across a cheese display at the local grocery store. People, it’s not like I’m out looking for blog fodder everywhere I go (Okay, maybe I am just a little.), but tell me, is it’s just me?:

Seemingly gracious wine and cheese steward from this angle, right? Not so fast!

Am I the only person who thinks this guy isn’t wearing any pants? I have passed by this particular display countless times! Since I don’t drink wine and I think those particular type of crackers are fairly nasty, I never really paid much attention. But please, Kroger! There are CHILDREN at this grocery store!

That is just wrong on so many levels. After be ocularly accosted in the rear of the store (pun intended), I figured I had everything I wanted and some things I didn’t. I composed myself and went to the check out line, paid for my groceries and headed out to the parking lot. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rings. It is my husband calling. “Are you still at the grocery store?” This means one of two things: 1) “How much longer are you going to be?” or 2) “I forgot to ask you to get me some jelly beans.” On this day, it was the latter. I really didn’t feel like going back to the store, as I was still visibly shaken by the pornographic cheese buttler. But since Katdish = obedient wife, I turned the car around and went back to get 3 bags of Jolly Rancher jelly beans. (They are the best.) Obviously, I didn’t get a cart or a basket. I can manage 3 bags of jelly beans all by myself, thank you very much.

So guess what? They’re on sale. They are ordinarily $2.99 per bag, but the sale price was 3 for $5.00. I call dh to ask him how many bags I was supposed to buy. Yep — six. “Oh, and by the way, we also need Cheetos, saltine crackers and tortilla chips.” Great! As if I don’t already look like a big enough tool walking around with 6 large bags of jelly beans. Might as well go for broke.

No, I do not heart grocery shopping — not even a little bit. But the candy aisle was somewhat educational. Have you heard about the new m&m special dark chocolate candies?

I always thought that because they were shiny looking, they were INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED in foil. And seriously…who has that kind of time? But no! You EAT the shiny part:

Yeah. Still not so sure about that. But to end on a positive note, guess what they were selling in the bakery? (Cue the angelic, cherub choir.) Chocolate chip pumpkin muffin tops! Yum-O!

Now, that there is a muffin top I can give truly get behind.

This post is part of the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival: Memory, hosted by the lovely and talented Peter Pollock. To read more posts about memories (although most likely not about naked butlers in grocery stores), please visit him at PeterPollock.com.

image courtesy of photobucket.com

March 31, 2009 began as an ordinary day. Little did I know that a trip to the grocery store would forever change my life. This was the day I introduced the world (and by “the world”, I mean the few people who actually read my silly little blog) to the Pornographic Cheese Butler. Many references, lo, many follow-up stories have been written about PCB, but since It’s almost 11:00 pm CST, I just got home from praise team practice, and I don’t trust myself to write anything remotely coherent, I thought I would repost the story that started it all. Ladies and gentlemen I give you:

I Do Not Heart Grocery Shopping:

Here’s something kind of space/time continuum-ey. When I went shopping Friday afternoon, I had no idea Beth was going to do a post about grocery shopping, nor did I know I would be doing a post about grocery shopping. That is, until I happened to come across a cheese display at the local grocery store. People, it’s not like I’m out looking for blog fodder everywhere I go (Okay, maybe I am just a little.), but tell me, is it’s just me?:

Seemingly gracious wine and cheese steward from this angle, right? Not so fast!

Am I the only person who thinks this guy isn’t wearing any pants? I have passed by this particular display countless times! Since I don’t drink wine and I think those particular type of crackers are fairly nasty, I never really paid much attention. But please, Kroger! There are CHILDREN at this grocery store!

That is just wrong on so many levels. After be ocularly accosted in the rear of the store (pun intended), I figured I had everything I wanted and some things I didn’t. I composed myself and went to the check out line, paid for my groceries and headed out to the parking lot. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rings. It is my husband calling. “Are you still at the grocery store?” This means one of two things: 1) “How much longer are you going to be?” or 2) “I forgot to ask you to get me some jelly beans.” On this day, it was the latter. I really didn’t feel like going back to the store, as I was still visibly shaken by the pornographic cheese buttler. But since Katdish = obedient wife, I turned the car around and went back to get 3 bags of Jolly Rancher jelly beans. (They are the best.) Obviously, I didn’t get a cart or a basket. I can manage 3 bags of jelly beans all by myself, thank you very much.

So guess what? They’re on sale. They are ordinarily $2.99 per bag, but the sale price was 3 for $5.00. I call dh to ask him how many bags I was supposed to buy. Yep — six. “Oh, and by the way, we also need Cheetos, saltine crackers and tortilla chips.” Great! As if I don’t already look like a big enough tool walking around with 6 large bags of jelly beans. Might as well go for broke.

No, I do not heart grocery shopping — not even a little bit. But the candy aisle was somewhat educational. Have you heard about the new m&m special dark chocolate candies?

I always thought that because they were shiny looking, they were INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED in foil. And seriously…who has that kind of time? But no! You EAT the shiny part:

Yeah. Still not so sure about that. But to end on a positive note, guess what they were selling in the bakery? (Cue the angelic, cherub choir.) Chocolate chip pumpkin muffin tops! Yum-O!

Now, that there is a muffin top I can give truly get behind.

***

And the heartbreaking follow-up story:

Say it ain’t so Kro! Say it ain’t so!

In my last compelling and riveting shopping post, I DO NOT heart grocery shopping, I introduced you all to the pornographic cheese buttler:


With a heavy heart, this blogger is sad to share with you the news that our beloved friend PCB has been forcibly removed from the local Kroger. What makes this news even more difficult for me to accept is this: I can’t help but feel that I may have had a role in his removal.

I’m sure it will come as no surprise to any of you that this blog is ready by literally TENS of people every single day, and the PCB buzz that post must have created on the Internet forced the hands of Kroger executives. For this, I am deeply sorry. Also, I may need to start shopping exclusively at HEB, because I get the stink eye from the Kroger store manager every time I pull out my blackberry.

I attempted to interview several store employees as to the whereabouts of PCB. Alert meat department employee “Skeeter” (not his real name) made the following comment: “Yeah…(guffaw)…They made us take him down.” When asked the whereabouts of PCB, store management would only give me vague references to wine vendors and store rotations. I smell a cover-up!

Jeeves, a long time friend and confidant of PCB was still too visibly shaken to give an interview, choosing instead to drown his sorrows in a delightfully fruity yet cheap Merlot:

There are unconfirmed reports that Jeeves was later reprimanded for making lewd and suggestive remarks to the night stocker in the feminine hygiene aisle. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for him…

PCB’s replacement, Woodrow Brimley (rumored to be the younger brother of Wilford Brimley of “Cocoon” and “Di-a-bee-tus!” fame) had only this to say: “Cry me a river lady! I’m 3 feet tall, bald, wearing white panty hose, and I’ve got a bolt stuck through my hand! Now leave me alone, I’m trying to pimp some Yellowtail (that’s what she said).”

On a happier note, I was able to purchase a box of the new shiny m&m candies. My opinion? Meh…They taste much like the original peanut m&m’s. The only difference being that there are almonds instead of peanuts and I got the strange sensation that a couple of Polly Pocket shoes were dropped into the vat during the candy coating phase. Weird. Also, we’re out of crackers again.

Goodnight Pornographic Cheese Buttler, where ever you are!

For readers old and new: Sorry/you’re welcome.

We interrupt the PCB update to wish a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my dear friend and fellow long time PCB supporter, Helen from Helen at Random Musings! (Otherwise known as @HelenatRandom)

And now, the update you have all been anxiously (?) waiting for:

As you may recall from Tuesday’s post, I met secretly with one of PCB’s former co-workers who wished only to be identified as “Yellowtail”. Based upon information gathered in this meeting, I set my GPS coordinates in my Jeep and headed south towards an undisclosed location near the Houston Ship Channel. Of course, I got lost anyway, because I have absolutely no sense of direction. I can’t even tell my left from my right without pretending to eat. But I digress…

Area fine dining establishment

After some lunch and a few discreet inquiries at one of the area’s fine dining establishments, I donned my dark sunglasses and uni-bomber hoodie and made my way to a secret warehouse where PCB was allegedly being kept “in storage”.

From the outside of this nondescript warehouse, one would never imagine what was waiting inside for this undercover blogger.

One of several pics one might find after googling "nondescript warehouse".

Unfortunately for me, my preliminary recon revealed that there was an armed guard at front entrance. Fortunately for me, said guard had fallen fast asleep watching Judge Judy on a 13″ rabbit eared television. (I know…what are the odds, right?)

I was able to slip past the guard completely undetected. Once inside, I was shocked by the sheer number of “retired” butlers I found.

Some may have found their way there for being poor imitations:

Others perhaps for repeated dress code violations:

Imagine my surprise when, in what I thought was an exclusively male profession, I happen to come across a female butler:

Oh, wait…nevermind. Pretty sure that was a dude:

There were butlers there of all ages. From the relatively young:

To the…GAAA!!!:

Row after row I searched, and while I found some that bore a striking resemblance to the Pornographic Cheese Butler (perhaps an older sibling?):

I was unable to locate PCB. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him among a large group of butlers:

And while my mission that day was to rescue him from this terrible place, I must admit he seemed quite content among his new friends. I’m not even sure if this was, in fact, my beloved PCB. But I decided to leave him there in his new home. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that the sleeping guard had found his way back to me, and was making a discreet call into his walkie talkie.

As I made my way towards the door, I was able to get one last glance at PCB:

I must admit, he seemed well taken care of. Perky, even…

Before exiting the premises, I think I also may have spotted another familiar face:

(Sorry, Yellowtail. Totally my bad.)

Farewell, PCB! Until we meet again…

Shortly after I posted Part Three of this riveting series, I received a mysterious phone call from a someone who would only identify himself as a former co-worker of PCB. I began to pepper him with questions, but he cut me off. He told me he suspected his phone was being tapped and that we would need to meet in person. After assurances were made that his identity would be concealed, a secret meeting was set up. The following is a transcript of said interview:

katdish: Thank you for meeting with me Mr. Brim…

YT: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT USING MY REAL NAME? Yellowtail. Just call me Yellowtail.

katdish: Sorry, Yellowtail. It won’t happen again. You mentioned in our brief phone conversation that you might have information as to the whereabouts of the Pornographic Cheese Butler (PCB).

YT: Yes. Never cared for that guy, but not even a freak like him deserves that kind of treatment.

katdish: What kind of treatment?

YT: Now, hold on. Let’s back up a bit. Back to when this all started. You know, when you and your picture snapping, blog writing self got your beloved PCB fired.

katdish: Oh, come on! You can’t be serious! No one even READ my blog back then. How could that post possibly have gotten him fired?

YT: That post had 49 comments! How can you say no one read your blog back then?

katdish: True…but most of those comments were Helen’s ideas for butt tattoos.

YT: Butt tattoos? What kind of sick freaks read your blog?

katdish: All kinds, really. But enough about my imaginary friends. What happened to PCB?

YT: Word on the street was that some local big wig with the Southern Baptist Convention got wind of your nekkid butler friend and demanded that he be taken out of the store. You might want to talk to your friend Mary about that.

katdish: Mary?….Oh, you mean Marni?

YT: Whateva…

katdish: Marni would never turn PCB in to the SBC. Besides, she’s not even that kind of Baptist. She’s like a renegade Baptist. But we’re getting off topic again. Where did he go from there?

YT: Well, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but there’s a dark side to the glamorous life of a wine and cheese display butler. We’re all promised prominent displays at fancy places, but there are only so many gigs to go around. PCB’s conniving twin brother Horace made some back room deals and landed a choice gig in Walla Walla wine country, but once you’re relegated to the grocery store circuit, your days are numbered. Especially when you’re in the habit of showing your bare @$$ for the world to see. Once you’re asked to leave a grocery store, there’s really one place to go.

katdish: AND??? Where is this place? Come on Yellowtail, I’m dangerously close to exceeding my word count here.

YT: There’s this organization. Strictly off the books, if you know what I mean. When a butler is “retired”, he’s sent to a warehouse. And these warehouses? They’re like the roach motel. Once you go in, you never come out. Capeesh?

katdish: Oh, that’s horrible! Poor PCB! These warehouses? Is there one located in the Houston area? Is that where they’re keeping PCB?

YT: Look…I could get in a lot of trouble for even meeting with you. If I tell you where this place is…

katdish: Yeah, yeah…mum’s the word! Come on Brim…er, Yellowtail! You gotta tell me where he is!

(The remainder of this interview cannot be published, but if what YT told me is true, this blogger plans to report back here on Thursday with irrefutable photographic evidence that PCB and many more unfortunate wooden butlers are being held against their will in a warehouse close to the Port of Houston. (Cue the Mission Impossible theme music.)

Stay tuned….

image courtesy of google images "Walla Walla wine tasting"

If you’ve been following along at home (The legend continues, Part One and The legend continues, Part Two), you are aware that a butler matching the description of the Pornographic Cheese Butler who once resided in my local grocery store was spotted in Walla Walla wine country, Washington by roving reporter Darlene aka A Simple Country Girl. You also know her reports have raised suspicions that this is not, in fact, my beloved PCB.

Today, an exclusive interview will give you further insight into this unfolding saga.

And now, in her own words, Darlene:

Okay, I had my husband and son wait in the car while I went inside the place next door to the Bare Buns Butler. It was a winery’s uptown wine-drinking room (what do ya call it? it’s not a bar with beer or a pub with really big mugs of beer)…nice background music, brick wall on one side, wood wall on the other, wood floors, large comfortable looking chairs ever-so purposefully placed to encourage conversation and wine-drinking. The light was gentle (can light be gentle?). Both of the ladies talked in calm, low tones. there was a bar of sorts, fancy tile and ready for wine glasses. I was wearing my skorts, hiking shoes, and a pit-sweaty t-shirt. My sunglasses were atop my head. I had just come from the parent – coach soccer meeting, followed by dinner (I had a veggie laden salad with lots of avocados)…

Now that the scene is set:

Them: Good evening, how are you?

Me: I am good. Thank you. I have an odd question for you, actually more than one question.

One of them: Okay

Me: Do you own that part of the building over there? (pointing to the left)

One of them: It is owned by the same owner that has this place.

Me: Well you see, I have this friend in Texas. I had seen pictures she had taken of a wooden butler dude. He turned up missing one day. (Can anyone turn up missing? Really, that is what I said.) Then I saw this wooden butler next door peaking over a sign. Do you know anything about that fella?

One of them: Yes.

Me: Well, how long has he been here?

One of them: For about one and a half years.

The other one: Yeah, at least. He used to be down there at a furniture store.

Me: Oh, okay.

Now they are looking at me funny–or maybe they were high on wine.

Me: When I first saw him and recognized him I told my friend in Texas. She asked me to find out about his background.

One of them: How horrible. I cannot believe someone stole her wooden butler. She must be so disappointed (she may have said “disturbed”). How long has he been missing? Where are they looking?

Me: I didn’t say he was stolen. He turned up missing. He used to hold cheese in her grocery store. Krogers or something. It must be a southern chain.

One of them: Well I wish someone would steal this guy or the owner would get rid of it. He is really creepy. Really creepy. I have never liked him.

The other one: Yeah, and he has lived in other places in this town for about 10 years.

Me: I thought you just knew about his last couple of years.

The other one: He has been in Walla Walla for at least ten years.

One of them: He is really creepy. I can’t stand him. I don’t like him. (She needed another drink, perhaps.)

Me: Okay, Thanks so much. I know this is really weird but I just had to ask.

One of them: I wonder if she will ever find her butler? She must really be sad that someone stole him.

Me: (walking away) Okay, see you later.

Both of them: Thanks for coming in. Come back when you can sit down and have some wine!

So what have we learned?

Based on this interview and previous photographs, I think we can conclude that this is not my missing PCB. Perhaps a brother? A very creepy brother? Further investigation may be needed on this subject.

I want to express my great appreciation for Darlene’s top notch investigative reporting and interviewing skills which made this story possible. But the story doesn’t end here. You see, I’ve been doing a bit of digging myself and what I’ve unturned may be too upsetting and graphic for those of you with weak constitutions. I am compiling my final notations and cross-checking a few sources (katdish.net = integrity), and will give you my full report on Tuesday of next week. In the meantime, hug your wooden butler today and tell him how much he means to you. You may never get another chance.

Yesterday, thanks to the keen eye and observation skills of undercover photographer and reporter Darlene, aka A Simple Country Girl, I was able to break the story of a possible PCB sighting. In case you missed it, you can get up to speed by reading The legends continues, Part One here.

This story continues to evolve, and to be honest, it’s been a bit of emotional roller coaster of highs and lows for this blogger. Below you will find the results of Darlene’s second trip into Walla Walla wine country:

My official/initial BBB findings:

Apparently BBB has been relocated to wine country. His new dwelling place is a large store-front window. Interestingly there are two sets of doors. The first of which are locked shut and covered from the inside with hoards of white paper painted with oddball faces, hence the name you see on the glass door, Walla Faces. Also, BBB doesn’t seem to mind that those paintings reflect on his window, making him appear to be wearing a checkered skirt of sorts.

Upon inspecting his face, he looks happy and content.

His shoes look slightly worn, but no toes stick through (unlike his pants) his footwear.

And in trying to get a glimpse of his bunnage, I had to smash my face up against the window pane and peer between the wall and the strategically placed poster. Gasp! He had the vertical crack we are born with, but (uh, no pun, well, just a little one) he had amassed (oh behave!) a horizontal crack as well. Bare Buns Butler now sported an apparent wooden waiter anomaly with 4 sets of buns. I wonder, had he moved from Texas to Washington in order to escape any negative talk about his unfortunate cracking-up? Anyway, I could not get a shot of his backside because of my zoom lens. I was prepared for incognito shooting from across the street, not this person-to-person close-up action I was fortunate enough to encounter.

Much to my dismay, my son said two men were watching us from the inside of the store. And when we came back several minutes of later, he peeked under the Walla Faces poster and the men were there, apparently waiting for us. (After I made some keen observations, we ran off and then drove off in the Dodge.) We managed to make an interesting discovery, half of the building was empty, save for rows of chairs facing the opposite wall. Perhaps they were preparing for a meeting about BBB and whether or not crack caulking was in his wooden future? Or perhaps BBB was going to serve wine at an artsty-fartsy gathering? This is going to remain a mystery as we skeddadled on home.

From the blocked windows and the face paintings and the bottles of wine, I was not able to ascertain whether it was a winery storefront or an art gallery. Either way, BBB seems to be right at home with his tray of wine and lack of cheese. Hence the name change. Oh my, I just had a thought, what if he is actually an identical twin to PCB? I heard there has been an increase in oddball twins.

As an aside, look at the last two images I took in another storefront window. Is that Big Bird? (I never have been much of a Sesame Street fan.)

And what is with the dude’s eyeballs? Has he always looked like that? Perhaps he really, really misses Sesame Street and does not like Main Street at all. I reckon he is not thrilled with the store sign he is forced to hold.

Yes, “Hot Poop” is the name of the store. This town is beginning to freak me out a little bit…

Having read her report and seen the pictures with my own eyes, I’m inclined to believe that this is not, in fact, my beloved Pornographic Cheese Butler, because this guy appears to be wearing pants. But who knows? Perhaps pants have been provided for him. Tomorrow, I will share with you a transcript of an actual interview obtained by our intrepid roving reporter. Prepare yourselves. The findings are quite shocking…

The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers currently takes the top spot on the stack of books I’m reading. For those of you unfamiliar with Joseph Campbell, he was considered an expert on mythology and believed symbols of mythology and legend surround us, embedded in the fabric of our daily lives. He had an uncanny ability to recognize these connections and communicate their meaning. In his conversations with Bill Moyers, he expressed concern that the children of this generation no longer embrace  powerful mythologies and spirituality, resulting in “destructive and violent acts by young people who don’t know how to behave in a civilized society.”

I share Campbell’s concern for what I see as a real decline in civility and graciousness. I also believe that some myths and legends are born, others are made. One such legend was born on the last day of March, 2009 in a humble cheese and wine display at the back of a grocery store. I speak, of course, of your friend and mine, the Pornographic Cheese Butler:

Seemingly gracious wine and cheese steward from this angle, right? Not so fast!

Alas, as quickly as he was introduced to you all, we had to bid him a sad farewell. As Marni lamented in the comments section of Say it ain’t so, Kro! Say it ain’t so!, “Oh pornographic cheese butler, we hardly knew ye, and now you’re gone.”And while saddened by the quick departure of our beloved PCB, I could not ascertain the whereabouts of our pantsless wooden friend. I suppose I should have suspected something sinister after speaking to his replacement:

PCB’s replacement, Woodrow Brimley (rumored to be the younger brother of Wilford Brimley of “Cocoon” and “Di-a-bee-tus!”fame) had only this to say: “Cry me a river lady! I’m 3 feet tall, bald, wearing white panty hose, and I’ve got a bolt stuck through my hand! Now leave me alone, I’m trying to pimp some Yellowtail (that’s what she said).”

But the interwebs is a strange and wonderful place. You just never know who you may meet. On August 13 of this year, new bloggy pal and alert reader Darlene, aka A Simple Country Girl sent me an astonishing report via email. The following is only a brief portion of what has become a full-blown investigation:

Bare Buns Butler Investigation Report:

Three days ago just as the light changed on Main Street, I happened to glance over my right shoulder and looked out the passenger car window. What I saw made me gasp aloud. Although I could not keep my gaze fixed, I was certain that I had seen Katdish’s missing Bare Buns Butler. I drove home and immediately contacted her with my potential siting.

Katdish persuaded me to go back to town with my camera and take some photographs and make notations. Although I wanted to immediately oblige, I couldn’t find an excuse to head that way twice in the same day. So today, with my six-year old son and camera in-tow, we drove through downtown. Dear reader, you must understand that downtown Walla Walla is not the most enticing place for a gigantic Dodge pick-up with large metal bumpers and a big front-end winch. It is more suited to the wine-seeking tourists driving shiny little Mercedes. Despite my attempts to blend in with the locale (by sucking in my abs and pretending my legs were tanned by a vacation on the Riviera), my diesel hummed loud and stuck out like a sore thumb. The tourists literally stopped and stared as I meandered through the boutique-lined streets and wildly searched for BBB at every stoplight. To my dismay, I could not find him.

Dejected, I drove off for our one real errand, miles away.

Perhaps the reason I could not find mister Bare Buns Butler was because when I first saw him I was in the low-riding Subaru and now I was riding high in the Dodge. En route to home and during our second trip through downtown, I drove even slower and searched even harder. Just near the last light, I saw mister man’s wooden head peaking out over a sign. Much to my delight there were two empty parking places nearby. Good thing two spots were open, because my non-covert vehicle overlaps the sides of the painted places.

Before leaving home I had attached my zoom lens to my camera because I wasn’t sure how close I could actually get to the subject, uh suspect, uh wooden butler man. Unfortunately this proved to be detrimental to snapping any close-ups of Bare Buns Butler’s defining features. Despite this disappointment in fulfilling my spy-like duties, you will find attached the several angles from which I did manage to sneakily snap some photographs.

Could this be our beloved Pornographic Cheese Butler???

Stay tuned…the plot thickens.

I don’t know what it is about grocery shopping that turns me into a grumpy ho, but I dislike everything about it–the meal planning, the list making, the coupon clipping (HA!–As if)–I’m already stressed out and I haven’t even left my house yet! Now, with most chores I find unappealing, I find that once I stop procrastinating and just do them, they’re really not so bad after all.

Grocery shopping? Not so much…

My disdain for the grocery store is well documented. In my post I do not heart grocery shopping, I took you along as I trudged through the aisles of the local Kroger, where you met the beloved Pornographic Cheese Buttler. You then shared in my outrage at the removal of said PCB in Say it ain’t so, Kro! Say it ain’t so!

Is it any big surprise that the same local grocery store would be the object of my latest incessant rant?

Back in March of this year, Billy Coffey wrote a post called Grocery store goodness where he describes the latest phenomenon encouraging excellent customer service: the “Ring bell if you received excellent customer service” bell. 

In a nutshell, here’s the concept at my store: 

• There’s a bell with a sign at each register.
• If your cashier gives you excellent customer service, you ring the bell. 
• Upon hearing the bell, the entire staff of store stops what they’re doing and applauds for the cashier a-la Pavlov’s dog. 

In his typical style, Billy ends the story with an important life lesson on the importance of doing good not for the sake of recognition, but simply to give of yourself without expecting anything in return. And while I could also go this route, I figured he already covered it, so I’m just gonna gripe. You’re welcome.

Don’t get me wrong–I’m all about appreciating good customer service. Especially since it seems so rare these days. I’m not one of those people who are rude to store employees because I’m having a bad day. I worked retail back in the stone ages when the customer really was always right. Believe me, I’ve smiled and bit a hole through my tongue more times than I care to remember rather than telling some jerk with a superiority complex who talks down to a sales associate what I really thought of them. I get it. I go out of my way to be nice to people who often have jobs I suspect they would rather not have.

But this bell crap? Not a fan. Now, if they had an option for bad customer service I might be more inclined to participate in the celebration of the good service. 

For example:

Cashier carries on conversation with bagger about how many hours the manager screwed him out of this week without acknowledging the customer whose groceries he is ringing up…

Ding!

Employees park grocery carts in the covered walkway of the shopping center instead of in the designated shopping cart area inside the store, forcing customers to push their grocery laden carts in front of the store where all the thru traffic is. For some reason, this only happens when it is raining.

Ding!

Customer seeks assistance checking out groceries from one of the five cashiers standing around the customer service desk and is told, “The self-service lines are open.”

DING!

Store management removes the Pornographic Cheese Buttler display from the store and ruins any remote possibility of me having fun at the grocery store…

DING! DING! DING!

Enough with all the positivie reinforcement stuff already if you’re not going to acknowledge and correct all the things that make grocery shopping an unpleasant experience. And bring PCB back. His public awaits…

In my last compelling and riveting shopping post, I DO NOT heart grocery shopping, I introduced you all to the pornographic cheese buttler:


With a heavy heart, this blogger is sad to share with you the news that our beloved friend PCB has been forcibly removed from the local Kroger. What makes this news even more difficult for me to accept is this: I can’t help but feel that I may have had a role in his removal.

I’m sure it will come as no surprise to any of you that this blog is ready by literally TENS of people every single day, and the PCB buzz that post must have created on the Internet forced the hands of Kroger executives. For this, I am deeply sorry. Also, I may need to start shopping exclusively at HEB, because I get the stink eye from the Kroger store manager every time I pull out my blackberry.

I attempted to interview several store employees as to the whereabouts of PCB. Alert meat department employee “Skeeter” (not his real name) made the following comment: “Yeah…(guffaw)…They made us take him down.” When asked the whereabouts of PCB, store management would only give me vague references to wine vendors and store rotations. I smell a cover-up!

Jeeves, a long time friend and confidant of PCB was still too visibly shaken to give an interview, choosing instead to drown his sorrows in a delightfully fruity yet cheap Merlot:

There are unconfirmed reports that Jeeves was later reprimanded for making lewd and suggestive remarks to the night stocker in the feminine hygiene aisle. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for him…

PCB’s replacement, Woodrow Brimley (rumored to be the younger brother of Wilford Brimley of “Cocoon” and “Di-a-bee-tus!” fame) had only this to say: “Cry me a river lady! I’m 3 feet tall, bald, wearing white panty hose, and I’ve got a bolt stuck through my hand! Now leave me alone, I’m trying to pimp some Yellowtail (that’s what she said).”

On a happier note, I was able to purchase a box of the new shiny m&m candies. My opinion? Meh…They taste much like the original peanut m&m’s. The only difference being that there are almonds instead of peanuts and I got the strange sensation that a couple of Polly Pocket shoes were dropped into the vat during the candy coating phase. Weird. Also, we’re out of crackers again.

Goodnight Pornographic Cheese Buttler, where ever you are!

What does the above picture have to do with grocery shopping? I have no idea. But when I did a google search for “I hate grocery shopping”, this picture came up. So I figured I’d give this guy some mad peanut props. But I digress…

Here’s something else kind of space/time continuum-ey. When I went shopping Friday afternoon, I had no idea Beth was going to do a post about grocery shopping, nor did I know I would be doing a post about grocery shopping. That is, until I happened to come across a cheese display at the local grocery store. People, it’s not like I’m out looking for blog fodder everywhere I go (Okay, maybe I am just a little.), but tell me, is it’s just me?:

Seemingly gracious wine and cheese steward from this angle, right? Not so fast!

Am I the only person who thinks this guy isn’t wearing any pants? I have passed by this particular display countless times! Since I don’t drink wine and I think those particular type of crackers are fairly nasty, I never really paid much attention. But please, Kroger! There are CHILDREN at this grocery store!

That is just wrong on so many levels. After be ocularly accosted in the rear of the store (pun intended), I figured I had everything I wanted and some things I didn’t. I composed myself and went to the check out line, paid for my groceries and headed out to the parking lot. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rings. It is my husband calling. “Are you still at the grocery store?” This means one of two things: 1) “How much longer are you going to be?” or 2) “I forgot to ask you to get me some jelly beans.” On this day, it was the latter. I really didn’t feel like going back to the store, as I was still visibly shaken by the pornographic cheese buttler. But since Katdish = obedient wife, I turned the car around and went back to get 3 bags of Jolly Rancher jelly beans. (They are the best.) Obviously, I didn’t get a cart or a basket. I can manage 3 bags of jelly beans all by myself, thank you very much.

So guess what? They’re on sale. They are ordinarily $2.99 per bag, but the sale price was 3 for $5.00. I call dh to ask him how many bags I was supposed to buy. Yep — six. “Oh, and by the way, we also need Cheetos, saltine crackers and tortilla chips.” Great! As if I don’t already look like a big enough tool walking around with 6 large bags of jelly beans. Might as well go for broke.

No, I do not heart grocery shopping — not even a little bit. But the candy aisle was somewhat educational. Have you heard about the new m&m special dark chocolate candies?

I always thought that because they were shiny looking, they were INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED in foil. And seriously…who has that kind of time? But no! You EAT the shiny part:

Yeah. Still not so sure about that. But to end on a positive note, guess what they were selling in the bakery? (Cue the angelic, cherub choir.) Chocolate chip pumpkin muffin tops! Yum-O!

Now, that there is a muffin top I can give truly get behind.