I have had a bit of a problem with writer’s block, so this is an attempt to move past it.
One of the disadvantages to living in a small town is the limited availability of places to shop and difficulty sometimes finding what you want. We needed gingersnaps to make sauerbraten sauce, a favorite meal that I had not made in a long time. Richard remembered that we used to have this quite often and put it on the menu for this week.
There are two grocery stores in town. He went to one of them on Sunday to get gingersnaps. There were no gingersnaps. Really?
I went to the other market on Tuesday to look for gingersnaps, thinking I would find some. Silly me. That market also had no gingersnaps.
Today I went to the Dollar General Store, which is not my favorite place to shop because of the weird way its aisles are laid out and some other strange policies.
Yes, they had gingersnaps! If DG can stock gingersnaps, why can’t either of the two grocery stores?
I was very happy to find the gingersnaps, but the best thing about that experience was when I thanked the clerk for helping me find the cookies, she said, “Of course.”
Of course.
A pet peeve these days is service people—bank tellers, clerks, etc—who respond “Not a problem” when I thank them for helping me.
Not a problem? Helping people is their job, why should it “be a problem.”
Okay. I get it that “not a problem” is a perfectly acceptable response in some situations when someone is being thanked for going “above and beyond” and that language is fluid and new words, phrases, and expressions are added all the time.
I suppose people my grandparent’s age reacted the same way when a whole new vocabulary came along with the “hippies” in the late 60s. I guess I am just showing my age.
