I Could Have Showered

The other day I realized that I had not been to the grocery store in about two weeks, and was kind of over the whole living off of tuna fish and stale tortillas-thing. So I decided to take a quick break from work and make a dash for, at the very least, some cereal. I actually contemplated throwing on some makeup, but figured there was likely no one worth a few strokes of mascara at King Soopers at 2:00 in the afternoon on a weekday.

(Fore*shadow*ing. See definition of:)

I made my way through the aisles pretty quickly, and was gazing at an end display of paper towels when I noticed a woman who had bothered to make the effort to appear decent before she went out that day, sort of standing behind me, pointedly. I tried to subtly squeeze my cart over, giving her room to pass. She did not pass. I glanced over my shoulder and immediately made eye contact with her. Probably because she was staring at me.

“How are you today?” she asked through a perfectly lipsticked mouth.

“Fine, how about you?” I mean, what else do you say to that, even if it is odd that a woman in heels in a grocery store, lacking a grocery cart, is making idle conversation with you in front of the paper towels?

“Good! We’re filming a commercial,” she replied cheerily, nodding at a large camera, professional lighting, and multiple artistic-y people dressed in black scurrying around near the vitamins right in front of me, which I had somehow missed up until that point. Apparently, paper towels can be quite riveting.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I’ll get out of your way!” I made a mad dash into the closest aisle, horrified that I had just parked my grocery cart, complete with new mop handle, in the middle of a King Soopers commercial.

The lady with perfect lipstick followed me in her high heels saying, “Actually, I want you to be in it.”

The attention whore in me had about half a second of joy at finally being “discovered” before my brain kicked in and was like, “Dude, NO makeup. Also, perhaps, maybe you could have brushed your hair this morning?”

“Oh, that’s o.k.,” I told her, walking away quickly. There is no way I would let anyone take my picture looking that crappy. I also am not fond of how I tend to look on video, ever. It’s never quite what I see in my mind’s eye.

“I’ll give you a $25 gift card,” the woman said.

I turned around and wheeled my cart up to the camera, ready for my close-up. As they lectured me on what to say “We’re looking for more than yes/no answers, here,” I took a cue from Scarlett O’Hara and pinched my cheeks and bit my lip to try and bring a little color to my winterized, ashen face.

With the cameras rolling, they asked me what I liked about King Soopers. I froze. It was not, really, a shocking question. What did I think they were going to ask in a commercial about King Soopers? But my mind went blank. I stared blankly, proving that one does not need to have much more than an IQ of 4 to be a shopper at said grocery store. “uh.” “erm.” I glanced at my cart. The mop handle did nothing for me. The organic peanut butter, on the other hand….

“Organic!” I peeped. The cameraman, the interviewer, the lady who had recruited me, and everyone else who was watching all looked at each other like, “Wow, that totally does not make any sense. At all. Way to pick ‘em, lipstick lady.”

“Organic stuff. King Soopers has a nice selection of organic…(produce? Meat? Seafood? Yogurt? Cereal?) stuff.” Was all I could think of to repeat. “Also, it’s close to my house. I’d really just shop at any place that’s close to my house.”

Apparently, that was not the answer they were looking for. They kept prying, so I went back to my first phrase and just repeated “organic stuff” a couple more times. Look at me go! I am so organic! I’m practically a hippie, as far as they are concerned. Too bad I forgot my canvas totes and would be taking my wholesome pesticide-free-range food home in plastic bags.

“How about in these economic times? Have you had to make any changes to your spending habits? Has King Soopers been able to accommodate those?” asked the interviewer guy, gently leading the moron to the type of answers he was expecting.

“Oh. Uh. Yes. Also, your prices are good. Um. So, like, when I lost my job (ed. note: this was almost two years ago and had nothing to do with the current economic crisis, but I decided not to bore them with those details) we had to cut back and I was able to find cheaper alternatives in the store. The generic stuff is just as good. Also I like your organic stuff.”

I watched the interviewer guy try not to roll his eyes.

“Also, you’re cheaper than Safeway,” I threw out, in a horrifyingly desperate attempt to appease lipstick lady so that she would still give me my gift card.

It was brutal, but they did finally give me my gift card. Then they took my picture. I bit my lip one more time to try and bring some color in, and I think I managed to make it bleed. That should be a fantastic photo for their campaign.

Look for a bleeding princess on your local television, eschewing normal grooming habits for going out in public, or listen for her on your local radio station, promoting the proximity of King Soopers to her house and stuff.