Anticipation. (Or, The Evil Safeway Part II)

If you thought I dialed it in yesterday, just wait til you read this collection of random crap. I'm killin' time here, until Danielle arrives and we get this show on the road. And, I know how sad you'd be if you didn't have anything to entertain you on a Friday. Today it's about quantity, not quality, and I'm OK with that.

First, another installment in The Evil Safeway series. My god, how much do I hate your Muzak? The sad part is, I know the lyrics to every damn song you play and find myself singing along (sometimes audibly) while wandering the aisles. Bad! And what is up with the cheap-o, knock-off version of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" Was the original Elton John version not Muzak-y enough for you? You had to go get some woman to sing it veeeeery slowly with lots of echo-y flourishes from the background vocals? I had pretty much convinced myself this was the case, but lo and behold, the very next song was "Why Can't This Be Love?" by Van Halen. Van Halen! And Elton John was too rockin'??? But you just haven't lived until your average 350-pound high school checkout boy starts belting out - tunelessly and not keeping time with the Muzak - Toni Braxton's "You Mean the World to Me." Which is now stuck in my head. Thank you, oh so much, Safeway.

Official Ski Trip Update: I have chains! It took stops at three auto parts stores, but they are now safely thrown somewhere in the trunk of my car. And it was quite the experience.

Auto Part Store #1: Closed. I could tell this without even pulling into the parking lot. Almost broke down in tears due to working in crappy small town suburb where nothing is open past 5:00 p.m. and haven't we already covered the fact that I DO NOT leave work before 5:00 p.m. and WOULD A STUPID SET OF CHAINS BE TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR??? I am going to drive into snow-covered mountains and meet my snow-covered death, all because I actually go to work during the day.

Auto Part Store #2: Open, yay! I put on my I'm-just-a-pathetic-girl-please-help-me face, which works like a charm. (And wasn't much of a stretch considering the near-breakdown I'd just had.) Michael (yes, we're on a first-name basis) asks what size tires I have. Right. See, I knew that was a critical piece of information, but when Adam (helper guy from last night) looked at my tires, he committed the size to memory without telling me. So...? Does knowing that it's a Corolla help? Michael and I go out to inspect my tires. They are 175/65/14, in case you were wondering, and I will be writing that information someplace not lose-able, like on my registration form, since I am tired of not being able to answer that question. Michael finds the appropriate chains in their inventory catalog, but does not have them in his store. Apparently I have unusually small tires. Or unusually small tires for one who is going to drive up a mountain. Again with the snow-covered death pictures flashing through my head. But! Michael's handy dandy computer tells him that another store in the area has them in stock. Jackpot.

[Danielle just arrived and can't wait to get back in the car, so I will finish this very hilarious story later. If I do not meet my death on the side of a mountain.]

Auto Part Store #3: Also open, yay! Following Michael's instructions, I go find Chris who will hook me up with some chain love. (That sounds way kinkier than it is. Contain yourselves.) Chris, on notice from Michael that a young woman in search of chains will be stopping by, takes one look at me and goes off to get the chains. When he returns, chains in hand, I inquire about windshield wiper fluid. I spotted some in Auto Part Store #2 and thought, I haven't put wiper fluid in the car since moving to California a year ago, so I'll bet it's time to start worrying about that. Chris suggests that I get a de-icer instead of regular old wiper fluid. I thank him for the thought, but no, really, I just want wiper fluid. No, he insists that I will be sad, and may possibly die a snow-covered death on the side of a mountain, without the de-icer. Ok, fine, give me the de-icer.

Chris: I'd love to, but actually we're not allowed to sell de-icer in Sacramento County.
Me: blank stare
Chris: I know.
Me: Huh?
Chris: Just stop someplace on your way up the mountain, like in Placerville, they can sell it to you.
Me: Are you kidding? Why? No, wait, don't. I don't want to know. I will just add this to my list of Things about California That Make Absolutely No Sense Whatsoever.

Hello, California legislators? Sacramento County board? Have you run out of ideas on what to make laws about? Is this what it's come to? De-icer regulations??? Have we already solved those other problems like poverty and child abuse and lackluster educational achievement? Are you worried that I will inappropriately use my de-icer on a frigid 50-degree winter day? De-icer???

Anyway, we are here now, having safely navigated the mountainous terrain without needing chains or de-icer (which is good, because we didn't stop for any). Hopefully the skiing goes just as smoothly!