Saturday, March 11, 2006

Steve's Meatball Sandwich Experience

One of our Saturday rituals is to get a sandwich at the Italian Importing Co. in Sacramento. I discovered this place about 8 years ago when I moved to Sacramento and lived around the corner. They have a grip of a meatball sandwich that is to die for. It's total grubbage. My wife gets the avocado and cheese sandwich. We love this little Italian grocery store. It's very old fashioned. They have fresh sausages and pasta. Anything Italian that is worthwhile is there. My sister in law's are drooling as they read this because they so wanna go there sometime.

This morning I lined up some chores. I finished raking leaves out of my backyard. Cleaned up my lawnmower so I can give it away. Changed the battery in the Porsche and got the thing running. It's running like crap right now but at least it starts and I can drive it. I took it over to the Italian store for the sandwich run.

While parking in front as usual on Saturday, I noticed a large group of people, maybe 15 or so walking towards the corner where the store was. What was weird was they all were dressed in black. They didn't look like goths or Jehovah's Witnesses or some cult but it was striking to see they were all in black. Maybe a funeral or maybe it was work attire, who knows.

It takes a while to get out of the Porsche. The linkage is broken or stuck or something on the driver side so I have to sort of "Dukes of Hazzard" it out of the car. I was about 30 feet from the door of the store and so was the group. The guys sorta slowed to admire the car. The ladies kept walking and just walking SLOW!!! I mean, molasses on New Years day in Peoria, Illinois slow. (s'up lawryde) And to top if off they were like six-wide on the sidewalk. WTF I thought.

I didn't think they were going for the store but they did last second and in the process I bumped into one of the ladies in front of me. Now one funny accidental thing about the grocery store is that the front door is backwards. You don't "pull" you push. Most stores you pull to get in, because of a fire. One of the ladies pulled on it like 4 times and exclaimed, "They're closed."

"PUSH!!" I say rudely, drawing attention to the big letters on the door that say "PUSH". The first lady heads in with like four of them following and the guys were behind me. I swear the lady gets no farther than 1 foot in the door and she stops, causing me to bump into the ladies again. Christ! I think to myself.

Now the guys in the group are right on me. I am wearing a green shirt so I totally stick out in this dark group of people because I don't belong. You can tell I am separate. I duck left hoping that if I hurry around the back I can flank the group before they get to the sandwich counter. I was foiled by a 4 foot tall lady standing behind the 4 foot 1 inch tall pasta rack. I swear the lady was just a stack of dirt and bones with the pasta packages pressed up against her face. We sort of tied. I was right there with the lead lady. The owner of the store comes to the counter and says, "Who's next?"

This ownern guy is totally cross eyed. I knew this and it was my advantage because when he looked like he was looking at the lady, I knew, after 8 years as a loyal customer that the man was looking at me, by looking at her. Before she can order, I raise my index finger and yell, "Here!" and then I turned and glared at the lady, with an evil scowl like, "Don't you even think about ordering your 15 sandwiches before me, bitch!" I got my sandwich in before the group ordered their meatball sandwiches. There are three people working at this store. Three! I'd still be there if I didn't press the issue.

I am a such a jerk, but you all knew that!

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