How pants without pockets ruined my groceries

Yesterday, I hosted Grand Camp — a day for grandparents and their grandchildren — at work. This day is wildly fun and incredibly exhausting. So I always take the next day (that would be today) off from work to recuperate. Before, I could get to resting, though, I had a fundraising breakfast for Joy’s House to attend. So, I got up early and dressed in a flowy top and my favorite pair of khaki capri pants, which happen to not have any pockets (I’m getting to my point…)

After the breakfast, I had a couple of errands to run and then an appointment at 11am. I would rest after that, I told myself. After the appointment, it was about five hours after my early morning breakfast, so I decided to take myself out to lunch at Panera, which is not too far from Costco.

I go to Costco about once per month, right after pay day, which happened to be yesterday. So, since I was close, I decided to do the Costco shopping. Then, after that, I would go home and rest. Which was exactly my plan, except…

After I checked out at Costco and waved my receipt at the lady by the exit (which, do you know they only draw a smiley face on your receipt if you have a small child with you?), I headed to the van to unload the cart.

I unlocked the van with the key fob on my keys and, because my pants had no pockets, dropped the keys on the front seat. Then, because my pants had no pockets (do you detect a theme?), I had put my phone inside my purse, which I threw onto the floor of the front seat.

$250 worth of groceries in the back of the van later, I closed the van door and turned to return the cart to the cart corral (because I’m responsible like that). As I stepped away from the car, I heard a “click,” which turned out to be the car doors locking — with my keys, my purse, my phone, and several weeks worth of groceries locked inside.

I ran around the van, trying each door, pleading each to open, to no avail. So, I went inside Costco to call Mike to ask him to bring me the spare set of keys. I figured if he saw it was a phone call from Costco, he might pick up. He didn’t.

Costco is kind of like Cheers; ok, maybe not everyone knows your name, but you’re bound to run into someone you know. Except, after about 15 minutes, I hadn’t. Near Costco, there is a McAlister’s Deli, where I almost always see someone I know. Heading that way, I honestly prayed, “Please God, let there be someone at McAlister’s I know who will let me use their phone to text Mike.”

When I saw an old classmate of Annie’s, I almost jumped across the table calling his name. God love Ethan, he was happy to let me use his phone, from which I texted Mike, explaining the situation. Afterwards, I sat down with an ice water and waited.

So, there I was in a McAlister’s with nothing to entertain me. No phone. No book. No pen and paper. So I read the labels on the salt and pepper shakers. I found out that you can change how coarse or fine the texture of the condiments are, so I learned something today. Then I read the table ads. Did you know you can order a mini brownie platter or a mini cookie platter, that is a big platter with bite size desserts? Also, free tea day is July 18.

I tried meditating, unsuccessfully. I checked the clock on my FitBit obsessively, mentally picturing my frozen foods thawing and spoiling in a hot car locked up on a 90+ degree day. I made a mental list of things I was grateful for in the situation. Note: I was not grateful for my pocketless pants, but I was grateful that I have a car to lock my keys in, that I had money to buy the groceries, that I was able to use Ethan’s phone.

Oh, speaking of Ethan…about 45 minutes after I locked everything in the car, I saw that Ethan and his buddy were leaving. I scrambled to catch him before he left.

“Did Mike respond?”

Nope. Thankfully, as I was asking to borrow the phone again, Mike called on Ethan’s phone. He had been meeting with a friend and didn’t notice the text message. He was on his way.

Thirty minutes later — do you know how many black wagonesque cars drive past that McAlister’s — Mike pulled in with the spare key and the saga was almost over. Except that most of the frozen food I’d purchased at Costco was thawing, leaving the boxes soggy. So, tucking the keys into my bra (remember — no pants pockets), I grabbed a cart and took the soggy groceries back inside where I explained to the manager what had happened. Happily, he allowed me to return the potentially spoiled groceries and I went shopping at Costco again.

Three hours after I first pulled into Costco, I pulled out and headed home with my frozen replacement groceries, my keys, purse, and phone, and yes, my pants without pockets. And next year, on the day after Grand Camp, I’m not leaving the house.



2 thoughts on “How pants without pockets ruined my groceries

  1. I love your ability to weave the details thru your writing, moving ever closer to your ending 🌿


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s