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I find fish sticks inordinately humorous anyways, but this depiction pretty much made my day.
While parading around a gigantic department store such as Meijer, you�re apt to come across a few things that make you giggle during a given shopping experience. Especially when you happen to be moderately drunk on cheap beer. Now let me tell you, wheeling around a rickety shopping cart after drinking is not recommended by any means. They tend to disobey you every chance they get.
The fact of the matter was that I didn�t even require a shopping cart that afternoon. I was there for primarily for munchie food � a box of Oreo cookies and a half-gallon of 2% milk to be specific. I also needed to kill some time before I was expected to be at my aunt�s house for Thanksgiving dinner. Or maybe I didn�t. To be quite honest, I was just procrastinating �like I really wanted to drive up north to Pontiac to celebrate an over-commercialized holiday with people I hardly know. My only motivation for making an appearance was to hang out with my younger brother Lloyd, who attends Grand Valley State, four hours away. I only see him during holidays; we�d have a lot to talk about.
So there I was, clumsily weaving through the crowded isles with my bastard shopping cart, heading towards the milk cooler. The Oreos in my cart looked like they needed a friend. Now, as some people know, Meijer is famous for the freshness of its groceries. Thanks to heavy marketing campaigns, �Meijer� and �fresh� are currently synonymous in meaning. The word �fresh� is on boxes of Meijer-brand foods, printed on shopping bags, and sprawled across their weekly sales flyers �hell, I think they even implanted it into the actual logo in some stores. When you think �Meijer�, you think �fresh�. And, really, who doesn�t want to consume fresh food?
Just as I pondering the Meijer marketing scheme (and after running cart-first into an end cap brimming full of inexpensive tuna), I happened to glance upwards, noticing a Meijer advertising banner that promoted freshness. Depicted was a box of house-brand fish sticks. And leaping out of the opened package was a lone fish stick, a spurt of water trailing the little critter.
I paused for a moment. Was this fish stick leaping up the Meijer water ladder? Was it battling its way upstream to spawn? Would it birth dozens of offspring covered in crispy breading? I erupted in half-drunken laughter, fellow customers staring me down at all angles. After arriving at the milk cooler in one piece, I imagined another Meijer freshness banner for the corporate offices to consider: A plump cow with one of her moist udders jammed into a plastic gallon of milk. Fresh milk would be spewing from the organ, running down the inside walls of the carton in steady streams.
Asking an elderly woman for the time, I discovered that I was already late for a dinner that was forty-five minutes away, which sucked because all the open cashier lanes were backed up into the women�s clothes section. I wasn�t about to leave the store unfulfilled, even though a huge feast was waiting at my Aunt�s place. I had a craving for Oreos and milk, dammit. Who knew how many people go grocery shopping on a large national holiday? The modern Thanksgiving Day is supposed to be a day of relaxing and fattening bellies, even if it is over-commercialized. The real holiday meaning had been lost for at least half a century, possibly longer. In the present, it�s an excuse to cook a real dinner and visit with relatives you never have time for in your normal busy life. I don�t even think Native Americans exist in this part of the country anymore.
�Excuse me, sir,� an unimpressive employee in a gray vest tapped me on the shoulder amidst the maddening checkout lines surrounding us. I turned around and was face-to-face with �Benny�, a manager of some sort. He pushed his thick wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and forced a smile.
�You can purchase your items at the customer service desk since you only have a few things.� He pointed at the desk located at the far end of the checkout lanes. Only a few people populate the line.
�Thanks,� I said, clutching my cookies.
�Have a happy Thanksgiving.� I was about to reply with �I sure will�, but decided to refrain. Was this a command from Benny? Was I supposed to have a great, relaxing day in his place, since he had to work his shit job all day? I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
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