The Last Straw

That's it. That's the last straw. --Milton

I'm blowin' town, folks. Va mousse. Adios. Gone daddy gone, the love is most certainly gone. The desire to close up shop in LA and head north for P-town has been building over time, but today I received the little kick in the ass that I needed to really be sure. And it happened in the oddest of ways in the most unlikeliest of places.

So I'm at the Trader Joe's. Just walked in with my two bright red Trader Joe's reusable shopping bags. I select the perfect bunch of bananas, place them in my cart on top of the bags and proceed to the cucumbers. Now I had made the mistake a day earlier of buying zucchini instead of cucumber so I was going to be very careful to make sure I didn't confuse the two again. I marveled at the size of the thing and knew I could never be fooled again. Both are phallic vegetables I should find emasculating for their sheer size, but the cucumber is still in a league of its own. But I digress. Now I'm over by the carrots, and after a brief inner debate, I decided to go with them. I turn around to toss the little orange buggers in with their fellow produce pals, but am startled to find that my cart has vanished! But I don't panic. I frequently misplace my shopping cart the Joe's as it's always necessary to find a spot for it off to the side, on the banks of the rapid river of people. I look all around the produce section, but it's nowhere to be found. No cart, no bags, no organic fruits and vegetables. So I wait. Surely, no one would steal a person's cart for the sake of a couple reusable grocery bags, right? An innocent mistake must gave been made and the responsible-but-not-guilty party will return soon, blushing but with no permanent damage done. You would fuckin' think so, wouldn't you. After a minute or so of standing there with nothing to show for myself but a bag of baby carrots (a much more fitting phallus as it turned out), I decide it's time for some street justice. No justice, no peace! I take a hard-looking lap around the store but find no viable suspects. Clearly, I'm dealing with a professional sack burglar. But I still don't really believe it. This could not be happening. Who does this? Who steals a person's shopping cart in the time it takes them to walk to a shelf and ponder the pairing of shrimp and carrots(probably not a natural fit, but I'm into carrots lately)? Seriously? I walk outside, looking to get some air if not some perspective. I mentally retrace my steps and actions to make sure I'm not going to be laughing at myself in a few minutes. It's such a cheap, despicable, petty crime against humanity that I can't fathom that it's actually happening. I walk back in, having done the emotional equivalent of rubbing my eyes after seeing a ghost. No relief to come, my friends. Nothing but the plain, shitty truth.

Someone stole my motherfucking environmentally-conscious shopping bags right out from under my nose (Cue a joke about liberals from Adam or a hippy joke from Conrad).

I've had it with this dump! (We got no food, we got no jobs, our pets' heads are fallin' off!!) I am so sick and tired of this congested, petty, soul-sickened city. I gotta get out before I go postal. Of course, it begs the question, What, you don't think this could have happened to you in Portland? The answer is no, I really don't.

I quit.

P.S. Personal neuroses about these reusable grocery bags. I always feel awkward about cross-branding with them. My bags are (excuse me, were) from Trader Joe's, but sometimes I need something from Whole Foods or Ralph's. I know it's ridiculous to feel awkward about taking bags from one store for use in another. It's all for the same good cause, right? It's not like the checkers own stock in the company (do they?) or are entrenched in a bitter rivalry with the other stores. I know all this, but yet it still feels weird to me, like grocery bag bigamy. Oh well, I guess the good news is I don't have to deal with that turmoil at the moment.