Auld Lang Syne

I like to think this is more how Bobbie Burns heard it.

Aye, one bonny tune deserves another.

I had to run by the bank this morning and availed myself of the nearby Harris-Teeter. We’d planned a big salad, baked potatoes and a steak for this evening. I stood before the pathetic meat case for fifteen minutes, amazed at the strange cuts and astronomical prices. On the way home I dropped by my trusty Food Lion and chose among the veritable pageant of inexpensive choices.

I found a Chateau St. Michelle champagne at H-T. Thankfully, it was not on the wine aisle, which was choked with well-muscled former adult entertainers trolling for sugar daddies and boy toys. Being neither, Brad and Britt had just left CiCi‘s and were looking on from the deli counter, gobbling up the free cheese samples.

I’m usually able to avoid such things at Food Lion, but yesterday a woman called me by name as I walked by. I froze in terror, but quickly recognized her as one of my Mom’s friends. Thankfully, I have yet to meet anyone who recognizes me from YES! Weekly or WXII. I am on guard against assault/abduction by a certain tap and baton troop, but you never know when a blogger’s mother or wife is gonna give you a piece of her mind.