Pie

This is the time of year where everyone's stress is amplified. People stress about everything all year, but with the added bonus stress of buying something for someone you care about and having it not be terrible people can be a bit on edge. "I'm not done shopping, and there is only 3 days left!" "I'm running out of money and I need gas to get to places!" Or, in my case "BOTH!" are common refrains around this time.

In my family, Christmas Eve is a big deal. Everyone brings a dish and we eat and drink until someone explodes and we then schedule the funeral for New Year's Eve. It's a tradition.

I was assigned to bring an antipasto (look it up, you uncultured fools). Antipasto is a shockingly expensive thing to have to make if you don't already have 90% of the ingredients on hand. I have 0% of those. Well, that was until I went to Stop & Shop and dropped close to $90 on marinated bite sized vegetables, cured meat sticks, and fancy cheeses with 0 items specifically for myself.

My financial depression was going along splendidly and my general agitation was only at a simmer.

Then the check out girl had to open her fucking mouth.

The lane was empty, the light was on. The conveyor belt was moving, and the express only sign was down. This should have been easy. A Christmas miracle. But that's not my luck, is it. Nothing goes easily for me. It's never smooth sailing. It can't just be a transaction in a grocery store, can it.

Girl: "Hi! Do you have your Stop & Shop Card?"
Me: "No, sorry."
Girl: "No problem!"

She started scanning my stuff, and I watched the total go up and up. 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 97. The numbers were breaking my heart.

Girl: "You got a lot of cheese!"
Me: "Yea, I'm making something. Is it cool to swipe my card?"
Girl: "Sure! I like cheese."
Me: "Ok." At this point I was putting my stuff into as few bags as possible so I stopped caring about her idiotic conversation.
Girl: "I like cheese on pie! Ever had cheese on pie?!"
Me (suddenly appalled and paying attention): "What? Good God no. What?"
Girl: "Yea, it's old school! Like from the old times. You melt cheese on a piece of apple pie!"
Me: "What? No. That's...what? No!"
Girl: "You haven't had that? SO GOOD!"

Now, let me remind you that I have just spent nearly $100 on marinated stuff, including capers, artichoke hearts, and other things this poor soul can't pronounce. She's never seen half of the things I bagged, let alone even thought about what a caper is (other than a goofy heist from a cartoon).

Girl: "You have to use the good cheese, though. Not the plastic wrapped single cheeses."

This is a good sign. She isn't melting Kraft Singles on her pie, so that's not the worst thing, I guess. Still, what kind of trash puts cheese on pie? There is so much going on in my head at this moment. All the questions. Some of them revolving around her parents and their abilities to raise children. Some of them about cheese, specifically it's strange relationship with pie. What kind of pie? What the fuck?

Girl: "You know, the good cheese. Like from The Cracker Barrel!"
Me: "Excuse me?"

CRACKER BARREL?!?!?!?! Are you fucking serious? Nope. Done. At this point, myself and every 14 year old girl in the world are the same. We can't even.

This poor child has no idea. She needs to read a book or something. Or maybe just eat some cheese that doesn't come FROM THE FUCKING CRACKER BARREL!

Goddammit!

SD