booze or smokes.

a silly story:

last week i was laughably mentally noting how different the little isles before the check-out counter at the grocery stores are here compared to those in the united states.

noting mentally enough on this that i even mentioned it in my "tangible journal".

at any rate, for example:

in the united states, typical things to find are classic works of non-fiction such as STAR! magazine, 48 different kinds of orbit gum, and all the stale milk chocolate one would ever need. (and on sale at that! 3 kit-kats for the price of 1!)

here you find things such as EVERY CIGARETTE EVER MANUFACTURED, 3 and a half packs of gum, and back-pocket-sized bottles of jager. this is per isle, mind you. so every isle contains a minimum of 7000 packs of cigarettes at any give time.

some of the larger, "nicer", "big city" stores also have nice chocolate available in these isles, including my personal favorite, ritter sport dark with hazelnuts. no m&m's or jennifer aniston's relationship status.

just chocolate, cigarettes and booze.

anyways, as this thought had been making me giggle for the past week, i found myself in an even giggle-tastic situation.

two nights ago i had to go to the grocery store to get some lettuce for the dinner salad. but i knew i didn't have any cash and felt like a douche using my bank card for a 1 euro head of lettuce, so i also ended up perusing the chocolate isle for potential gifts and picked up a thing or two for my brother.

there were only two registers open, and it was 5 o'clock, so the lines were supahhh long. and i wait patiently for my turn, only to find out that my purchases were not enough to use my card. (i didn't know there was a minimum.) i panic; there is a long line of very angry, tired looking germans behind me. i don't understand this fucking language. normally i would grab the god damn kit-kat and call it a day. the check out girl felt bad for me, and just kept pointing at the cigarettes. "yeah, but i don't smoke though!", i exclaimed. (seriously) and at this point i'm laughing quite inappropriately. i have two options: booze or smokes. i pushed past the frustrated men and one old woman with a babushka wrapped around her head, and grabbed a back-pocket-sized bottle of vodka. gave it to the cashier and she giggled at me. gave me one of those shurgs like, "hell, why not?" and i payed with my god damn card.

i laughed the entire way home.

oh, also, i'm pretty sure the kid i nanny for could walk in to the store to buy a case of beer, but a 62 year old woman is still going to get carded for smokes.

i love it here.

-tg