Liquor Store Adventures: The Return of Mama

If you missed my original post about Mama, please read this first.  Then come back and read this.

We did it again. My adult son and I went to the liquor store in our local grocery store.  It just made sense to do so as we had to go to Kohl’s and pick up lunch at Panera. It was just so damn convenient.

But it was also scary.  As we got out of the car, we both crossed our fingers that Mama would not be working. We just wanted one awkward free visit.

Before we walked into the liquor portion of the store, we looked both ways as though we were crossing a busy street and trying to avoid getting hit by a semi.  No Mama.  There were just two guys stocking wine right outside the doorway.  Big sigh of relief.

I grabbed a bottle of regular Tito’s vodka, the big one, and a small Absolute vodka that was wrapped in blue and silver flip sequins. It was just pretty.  Then, I told my son to grab a bottle of good scotch for my husband.  Well, I drink it, too, so I guess it’s for both of us.

When we were done shopping, we both walked slowly to the cash register, while looking around for Mama.  Our heads were spinning like something out of the Exorcist, just to be sure we weren’t going to suddenly have her in our face saying, “Mama doesn’t judge.” or any of her other catchphrases.

The coast was clear.  The man at the register started to ring us up.  That’s when Mama walked behind the counter.  I held my breath and avoided eye contact as though she were a homicidal male lion.  I thought to myself, “Will she recognize me? Does she know I blogged about her? Will she start talking to me? Do I know enough Spanish to pretend I don’t know English? What if Mama knows Spanish?”

Even though I was in a panic on the inside, I managed to remain calm while I swiped my credit card and signed.  While I was signing, I heard the guy behind the counter ask Mama, “What happened to that Ketal One I told you to stock?” Mama didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t call her Mama, oddly enough.

On our way out of the store, I whispered to my son, “We just dodged a bullet.”

He replied, “I know. I felt my butthole tighten when she walked in.  She seemed normal today. Also, I think I know what happened to that Ketal One.”

Mama probably stashed the Ketal One for later, even though she is a Jack girl.

To make a long story short, my son and I should just drive out of our way to go to the real liquor store.

 

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