Jonesing for Gummy Bears in My Cupcake Pants

Why is my life so embarrassing? Why am I prone to such mortifying and humiliating experiences? Is this some type of karmic character building thing because if it is, I feel like I have plenty of character at this point. I’m totally fine with taking a character building breather, even if it’s just for a few days.

I decided last night at around 9:30 that I needed gummy worms. Not wanted…NEEDED. Like if I didn’t get gummy worms last night, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. It was weird; it was random; it was hormonal. I grabbed a Fiona Apple CD (this is how I know this whole endeavor was hormonal), and then I drove my pajama wearing self up to the Harris Teeter. And these weren’t just any pajamas. These were my most conspicuous pajamas ever, bright pink and white pants with cupcakes all over them, and a waist band with the word “Sweet” printed across it. Of course, after the week I’ve had, the waistband actually read more like, “Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.”

So after I grabbed my fat free (but definitely not sugar free) gummy worms that were 4 for $5.00 on a VIC card special, I remembered that I was running a little bit low on toilet paper. I headed down the paper aisle restraining myself from opening the gummy bears right there in the middle of the store, I realized that the jumbo group-home sized toilet paper was on sale, too. Why would I buy a respectable amount of toilet paper, four rolls, for $3.95, when I could buy an exorbitant, and slightly offsetting, 16 rolls for $7? Exactly! I grabbed the Octo-Mom family sized package, put my beloved gummy worms on top of that, and carried the entire ordeal towards the U-Scan. I couldn’t see over the toilet paper (a side effect of not growing for 16 years…so at 26 that makes me the height of an average 10 year old) so I had to peer around the left hand side of my awkwardly shaped but too economical to pass up purchase. The whole thing was a little too Ace Ventura Pet Detective for me to feel good about myself, but since the only other people in the store were fraternity brothers buying Milwaukee’s Best, I felt okay about the situation.

I passed by the pharmacy on my way out, and I was reminded of my original reason for coming to the Harris Teeter: my uncurbed and uncontrollable enthusiasm for gummy worms. I suddenly realized why I had the high fructose corn syrup urge so I stopped by the Midol aisle and stocked up for the next week or so. Right after I balanced the Midol on top of my continent of TP, I turned to walk carefully to the U-Scan so I could get home, eat my birth weight in gummy worms, and fall asleep on my couch watching the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice. (Trust me, I realize the sadness and beauty of such a night). As I turned the corner into the main aisle of the grocery store I heard something that made my stomach drop.

“Amy?”

Oh dear God in heaven. What had I done in the past three weeks to deserve this type of karmic retribution? I turned around to face whoever it was, and peered at them from around my tower of toilet paper. Suddenly I was face to face—well, face to TP—with someone I graduated with from high school that I hadn’t seen in years.
We went through the whole awkward rigmarole of “so, what have you been up to?” all while my face was pressed up against some Scott tissues (quilted at least). We did that whole looking into each other’s shopping baskets thing where you’re totally snooping but playing it off as not. Well, he had a shopping basket. My Pangaea sized toilet paper wouldn’t fit in a shopping basket. He was buying wine, cheese, and fruit. What a bastard with his romantic basket of success. He was going home to seduce his beautiful wife with his wine and fruit and then they would make love for hours and would eat cheese for sustenance and then drink more wine and eat more fruit and make more love. According to my purchase, I was going home to get all jacked up on Midol, eat gummy worms, and use copious amounts of toilet paper doing God knows what. My purchase was sooooo frumpy compared to his. We headed to the U-Scan together, reminiscing about the “good old days” and rehashing stories of friends that we hadn’t seen in years. We both checked out, said our goodbyes and went off to our separate cars…mine a government employee Honda accord that needs a new transmission and timing belt, his a BMW convertible with the top down on a beautiful spring evening.

As I drove home eating gummy worms I remembered why I have a sense of humor. If it wasn’t for my ability to laugh at the ridiculous situations I find myself in 86% of the time, I would probably be one of the saddest people I know. Because if it’s embarrassing on any level what-so-ever, I think I’ve discovered I’m destined to experience it at some point in the future.