Tales from the Towers: Ex-boyfriends, martinis and Murphy's Law

Last week, after a long and strenuous session at the gym, I suddenly remembered that I  urgently need some items from the supermarket. I was pressed for time and decided to postpone my shower. So what if I perspired a bit, it's summer and everybody perspires. So I hitched a ride at the last moment with our shuttle service wearing an old t-shirt, gym pants and my Nikes.

Somehow it seems to me that I am haunted by Murphy's Law much more than other people are. I often go to the supermarket well-groomed and reasonably well-dressed.

But trust an unkind fate that, looking messed up after the gym, I met everybody I would have preferred not to.

First there was the ex-boyfriend of my youth. He gave me a funny look and asked me irrelevantly if I need a ride home, although he must have seen my empty cart and realized that I hadn't started to shop yet. Of course I refused and disappeared as fast as I could.

Checking out the deep-freezer, I felt someone touching my shoulder. And who was it but the Elizabeth Arden lady, who asked me:

"Is that what I taught you? You look a mess and there isn't a trace of lipstick on you!"

Quite disgusted, she turned away from me.

A man accosted me:

"Aren't you my patient? You look a bit flushed! Are you well?"

My dermatologist. What's he doing here? Why doesn't his wife shop for them? I hate him and he hates me. And I hate even more meeting him after a session at the gym and looking like an unmade bed!

And then a lady who recently joined us in the Towers put in an appearance. She grabs my hand and says:

"You have to guide me, I never shopped in this supermarket before and you probably know where things are!"

Yes, I do, but at that moment I was in no mood to share.

She stuck to me like a Siamese twin and followed me around. Trouble was I had to adjust to her pace, and she lingered... When she asked where she could buy some sausage, I quite selfishly guided her to the place and parked her there. Then I immediately disappeared, hoping she wouldn't find me again.

However, while I was making my escape, the manager of the supermarket got hold of me (he usually ignores me). With a concerned look on his face, he asked:

"Did you jog all the way to here? But it's uphill and it is hot outside!"

Yes, yes, I know!

Thank God, my luck has changed, I thought when I noticed that the line in front of my favorite check-out girl was quite short. My happiness did not last long however, because a young woman approached the counter ready to take over from that nice Galina. End of Galina's shift.

The one who took over is known as the slowest check-out worker in the supermarket... The ghost of dear old Murphy, whoever he may have been, was at work again.

Bad day at the supermarket.

But comes the evening, I switch on the TV and wait for the new series, Mad Men. I really don't know how mad they are, but the show certainly produces one mad woman: me!

I'm mad because I should not be interested in all those conniving, cheating, chain-smoking people who get stoned on endless martinis - but I can't stop watching them!

The series describe a time when cordless phones were a thing of the future, and smoking was allowed everywhere. I find myself feeling sorry for the people who work in advertising, but I can't help feeling fascinated by it! It's so hard to please the public and even harder when you have lurking competition everywhere and a deadline!

Don't I know about deadlines -  every week when I have to post an entry? Would life become easier for me if I smoked and drank martinis?

I wonder.

Lucca