I’m losing it

I tell you. My VERY FIRST ride on the motorcycle this spring and I lost one of my riding gloves. My RIGHT glove, if you’re keeping track of that kind of thing. You may think it would be difficult to lose a glove while actively riding, but you must remember the great underpants fiasco from the spring of ’22. Now THAT was a tough loss.

Wrong car at Hannaford

It sounded so simple. I just had to take my daughter’s car to THE Hannaford and pick up a steak for grilling. And everything went according to plan until I was in the parking lot loading my haul into the backseat of the car. There was I, rooting around in the back in search of a grocery bag to put my items into (I really can’t afford that nickel the store charges) when some dude crept up behind me and said, “Can I help you?” That’s right, people. I was rooting around in the wrong &$!!#$ car. I tried to explain my error, but you know how that goes. The more you explain, the more it sounds like you’re lying and are just a dirty thief caught in the act. I probably should have given the guy my steak by way of an apology, but have you seen steak prices lately? Naw, bro. That $30 pound of flesh is mine.

Bird brain

And speaking of dead animal flesh, the best bang for your buck is still the roaster chicken from Market Basket. Those birds are RIPPED! Those things are so yuge, it feels more like eating an ostrich than a barnyard fowl. It makes the roasters from other stores look like mere parakeets by comparison. In fact, is it possible. . . but no. Let’s not go down that road.

Tapped out

So, I got one of those cool debit cards that has the whatchamacallit chip allowing me to complete my transaction by simply tapping the card on the checkout terminal. I’m hip, I’m cool, I’m a happening fool. Problem is, the stupid thing never works. The 16-year-old cashier will be standing there frowning at me while I slam that card repeatedly against the terminal like I’m trying to kill a fly. Ultimately, I’ll have to give up and swipe the card like it’s 2003 all up in here. The Swipe of Shame the store people call it. You know, probably.

Teed off

So a week or so ago, I told you about my struggles with a certain flavor of tea that’s no longer in stock anywhere. You were all very supportive during this ordeal. We all cried together and it was truly cathartic. Then, over the weekend, about 100 of you wrote me to say that a quick web search had revealed that the tea was in stock at this store or that one, so I’d go darting off in all directions to find it, only to come up empty handed again. I recognize now that this was probably some well organized practical joke, and I applaud you.

Mark LaFlamme is an award-winning Sun Journal reporter and columnist. He’s covered the nighttime police beat since 1994, which is just grand because he doesn’t like getting out of bed before noon. He is the author of eight published novels and rides a dual sport motorcycle everywhere he goes. Unless it’s winter, in which case he just sulks a lot.