Tuesday, November 15, 2011

It's like exactly like Fight Club. Sorta.

I am a military wife.  I chose this lifestyle, and with along every way of life comes good and bad, blessings and curses, joy and pain, sunshine and rain.  Somehow that turned into song lyrics.  Sorry 'bout that.

Anyway...

One of the blessings/curses is The Commissary.  OOOH THE COMMISSARY!  Where you can only shop if you have ID!  I happen to live a good 20 minutes from said store.  Therefore, it's not really convenient.  I may even spend more in gas than what I save shopping there.  But there's a lot of stuff that the local groceries don't carry that you can get there.  Like sushi.  Yum.  I love sushi.  It very well might be worth the trip just for that.  Or for all the German foodstuffs.  Or their bakery.  Holy shit, I'm hungry.

ANYWAY (again)... I hate the commissary, as well.  Why?  Well, because I'm an idiot who happens to decide to go near/on payday.  Payday at the commissary is AWFUL.  Everyone and their fricking MOTHER is there, and those tiny little Asian ladies have sharp elbows.  People have two carts that are overflowing, children are running amok, and you are guaranteed to wait in line longer than it took you to shop.  Hmm.  Sounds strangely parallel to a trip to WalMart...

Let's do some math! (Which I don't EVER think I've said before.  In. My. Life.)

Gas + likely homicidal thoughts + long lines + fisticuffs over the last chicken breasts on special - sushi - amazing ice cream selection - fresh bread - someone carrying my stuff out to the car = I think I'm going this afternoon.  Nevermind.  It's PAYDAY.  I'll have to stifle this sushi craving and go later in the week.  Besides, I'm not in the mood for a black eye.  I already have a split lip because my lips are so flipping chapped, and I don't want people to ask me if I need a victim advocate.

2 comments:

  1. Ahh, the commissary. I miss the commissary. The hubs was in the Reserves when we first were together and when we got married, I got that magic little card that allowed entrance to that sacred mecca of food. It was also not close, but gas prices were better back then. I would be that woman with the two carts, but I rarely ever elbowed anyone. I would spend hours in there it seemed and spend a ton of money, but would only go about once a month or so, so I felt it evened out. I would go to the regular store as well, though, so probably not. But oh! Their seafood prices were ridiculous and we would get like 15 lbs of shrimp and 8 lbs of crab meat for our xmas party every year and it would be like HALF as much as anywhere else. Ok, now Imma gonna cry cuz I'm missing it that much. Thanks a lot, Kelly! Sniff.

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  2. Come visit. We'll go. But we'll have to make sure the seafood guy is there that weekend, so we can stock up, then go to the Class Six for tons of booze, and we can party while we tell our kids how babies are made, and by doing so, stop teen pregnancy. We are so awesome.

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