adventures in retail

[freckles_and_doubt]

One of the side-effects of chronic fatigue is, it seems, its tendency to rot the memory. I have now honed to a fine and perfect point my ability to forget someone's name within approximately a second and a half of being introduced to them, which adds a particular dimension of terror to my teaching and curriculum advice activities. I also do not undertake to remember the details of complex administrative scenarios from longer ago than a week or two, which has led to a recurring motif in my interactions with faculty colleagues, in which I chase a vague impression of event along the lines of "did that actually happen, or did I hallucinate it?" Sometimes I have, in fact, hallucinated it. This cannot, I confess, attest to any particular professionalism on my part, and does lead colleagues to look at me a bit oddly, but on the other hand, I cherish a profound indifference to the notion of advancement within my career qua career, and am damned if I'm going to give up harmless idiosyncrasies¹ in the pursuit of it.

All that being the case, it's something of a relief to discover that I am not alone in hallucinating things. This morning's usual Saturday grocery shop was enlivened by the discovery that the computer had somehow added, out of nowhere, a R14.99 item to my bill that was identified as "PAPRIKA/PWD SHAKR". I assume this is powdered paprika, but (a) I hadn't added any to my basket, (b) I hadn't even been in the spice aisle, (c)I never buy paprika from Checkers anyway as I prefer the smoked stuff, and (d) there wasn't any left on the counter by a previous shopper. Also, (e) the random addition came in the middle of the list, between the butter and the astonishingly cheap pecan nuts (what's with that? They've dropped from nearly R50 per packed to R23, presumably the pecan farmers have found the Entwives or something), so it wasn't left over from another bill. And (f) the nice checkout lady whose eagle eye had spotted the addition, re-scanned everything and it wasn't actually a wrong bar code on another product entirely. The system basically hallucinated it. Either that, or it's making sarky comments on my culinary tendencies, or has some sort of frustrated virtual affection for me and is trying to give me gifts. Odd, random and pointless gifts, but who am I to judge?

I am slightly more horrified to discover, perusing the list, that I seem to have accidentally bought gherkins, under the entirely erroneous impression that they were baby marrows. Gherkins in the pickled form are An Abomination Unto Nuggan, and I have always avoided the raw version on the grounds that they can only lead to evil. What does one do with raw gherkins, anyway? My current inclination is to bury them in the garden in a lead-lined box under an Elder Sign, but I may be over-reacting.

¹Am I alone in always hearing that word said as "idio-idio-idiosyncrasy" by the goose in Charlotte's Web? A book which, may I add, is responsible for many of the long-word addictions I have had from childhood.

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Comments

[bronchitikat.livejournal.com]

It might be chronic fatigue, it might be anno domini, and no amount of R&R is going to help with that. Hmmm, I wonder how much R&R I could get in on the ground that it might be fatigue?

Over here the Post Office brought in a whizzy new computer system for Post Offices. That, it transpired, hallucinated many things - mainly financial losses. The PO eventually, reluctantly, admitted that the losses were hallucinations and not due to stupidity or criminal intent on the part of individual post masters, but not before many of them had (trying to take the 'easy' way out) admitted to 'taking' the money and been sentenced to prison.

You were fortunate with your checkout operator!

[dancing-crow.livejournal.com]

I hear idio-idio-idiosyncracy in E B White's voice, from the tape of the book the younger child had and wore the oxide off. And I will always remember hearing him interviewed, and him mentioning that it took something like twelve takes to get through the scene where Charlotte dies without him sobbing. So I feel better when I get all verklempt over that part, or, it turns out, jsu thinking about that part.

[first-fallen.livejournal.com]

They're just a small cucumber :-). Much less watery than the English variety, so especially favoured for tzatziki.