Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Fairway, like no other market


So there I was, minding my own business waiting in the check-out line of the local Fairway, when my cell starts ringing. I pulled out my phone, saw it was The Mother of Boys calling, then shoved it back into my purse. I'm sorry to say I didn't pick up.

Hey, I was almost to the register, and here in The 212 if you're not ready to speedily check out at the register, you get dirty looks and sometimes mean verbal prods. And when I say speedy, I mean speedy. They have a cable connection hooked up to the registers and so not two seconds after you've swiped your card, the approved/declined message flashes across the screen. Talk about fast.

I called The Mother of Boys back and walked, with my heavy groceries, huffing and puffing, over to Central Park West, where I sat and chatted with her about the current WIP that she's editing. She's very excited about the story and both she and The Professor can't wait to get their hands on next installment. Too bad it's still in my head...


Clarification: You get dirty looks and verbal prods from other customers, not the employees. The employees are too busy restocking the shelves and ringing up your stuff to give you dirty looks...

No comments:

Post a Comment