There I was, minding my own business, having put together my grocery order like usual, via Instracart, when the damned thing refused to take my latest credit card.

It didn’t reject it, though. It just said it was unable to add the card at this time. And I know I got the numbers all right, I triple checked.

So who knows, maybe it will start working any moment now. Or maybe it will never work again and I will have to find another service just like I kept having to do with dining in.

And I don’t need this aggravation, dammit.

Probably unrelated, but this is the day a much anticipated and hyped to the point of consumer hysteria game, Baldur’s Gate 3, has finally been released, and so at the very least the entire GAMING internet is totally clogged with people buying and downloading the game and bitching because it’s downloading so slowly.

For some reason.

As for me, like any true Gen X’er, I am positively allergic to hype and as a lifelong lifestyle contrarian I would not even contemplate trying to fight through the rest of the stampeding fucking sheep to get something hot the day it comes out.

No thank you. That’s for the middle of the herd types who do things just because they are the “normal” thing to do. Or because everyone else is doing it.

You know. Wack jobs like that.

No consumer product is ever going to be worth putting up with shit like that to me. I will do as I have always done : hang back at the edge of the crowd until it disperses and only then do I go get some for myself.

And the thing is, I usually end up getting it only a few minutes later than if I had battled the hordes and waited in line with the sheep anyhow.

That’s how I handled the scrum at the cafeteria when the noon bell rang when I was in high school. While me classmates stampeded to get into line and wait for their turn, I just sat at a table with a clear line of sight to the lineup and read while keeping one eye on the line.

When it dispersed roughly fifteen minutes later, I would get up and casually saunter over and get my order.

Usually a pizza finger (deep fried pizza roll), fries, and gravy. Heaven.

And I would get the occasional snarky comment like, “Oh NOW he gets up!” or “He thinks he’s so special just because he.. ” and the like.

And you’re right, random person. I do think I am special. Because you fools just acted like cattle rushing ot the slaughterhouse trampling each other to get in line while I had a nice rest and read, yet I got my food just as fast.

That’s because you are sheep, and I am a bear. And as a bear, I don’t give a shit what you think of me. All I care about is my own comfort, wellbeing, and dignity.

And what do you know, I still have all of all three of those intact.

And you can’t STAND it.

More after the break.

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Well the fucking thing still won’t take my credit card.

So it looks like I am going to have to migrate yet again.

The good news is that I can just go back to ordering directly from Sav-on. I was miffed with them when I switched to Real Canadian Superstore via Instacart because Instacart seemed like a much better deal at the time.

But it wasn’t. I still had a $35 min. order to deal with, they still had patchy inventory so I never knew if they would have what I needed^[1] and I still got the occasional idiot fucking… Instacarter? um, sure… who can’t figure out how apartment buildings work.

Oh right, they call them “couriers”. Which I would only accept if the groceries were delivered by a fresh faced young man in a bellhop type uniform who scans the crowd saying, “Mister Bertrand? Mister Michael Bertrand? I have groceries here for a Mister Michael Bertand? Is Mister Bertrand here?”

I would then raise my hand and signal for him to approach. “I’m a Michael Bertrand!” I would jape. He would fake laugh because he’s heard that a million times… today,.

He would put the bags of groceries at my feet, say “There you go, sir!”, then hover expectantly, waiting for a tip.

I’d let him sweat for a few moments while I pretend to inspect my groceries. then make it up to him by tipping him a whole dollar.

Hey, that’s a lot of money back now in the 30’s.

Anyhow, where was I? That was very fun to write.

I ought to pay more attention to what I enjoy writing. Writing that scenelet up there was so much fun it barely felt like work.

Terry Pratchett said that writing was the most fun you could have with your clothes on.

And um, take it from someone who has adopted a pants free lifestyle., the clothes part of that is strictly optional.

I only put on pants when I am leaving the apartment. Otherwise I am naked ‘twixt waist and ankles, and quite comfy that way.

I might change my tune when it gets colder, but for these lazy hazy crazy days of summer, giving Big Daddy and the Twins maximum ventilation seems to be the smart thing to do.

Due to that plus my robust hydration policy. I haven’t felt heat sick even once this summer except at the very beginning when I hadn’t gotten my hydration game going just yet and needed to catch up.

Nothing like a sick headache, nausea, dizziness, disorientation, and the feeling like something living in your sinuses is trying to get out to remind you that maybe you should have a glass of water or ten.

It’s annoying to have to pee as much as I do, but it’s definitely better than heatstroke.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.