she didn't fall for it

Timbeck2

Timbeck2

Final Approach
Joined
Nov 4, 2015
Messages
9,222
Location
Vail, Arizona
Display Name
Display name:
Timbeck2
My wife asked me to text her what I needed from the store.

My list:

milk
bread
oranges
Bose A20 headset
grape jelly
Bloody Mary mix


:(
 
Should've listed after the vodka, which you failed to list completely! What's wrong with you! :nonod::D
 
What store has milk and A20s is what I wanna know.
 
oregonboy109 said:
What store has milk and A20s is what I wanna know.
Click to expand...

Hey ya might be surprised! Used to layover in Toronto at a hotel near the airport. A few blocks away was a strip center with a 1) pilot supply store, 2) sports bar w/ killer waitresses, and 3) titty bar! I'm serious too. :yes:

Always thought whomever owned all that must be either a pilot, or knew how to get pilots in the door, rather doors. :D
 
Timbeck2 said:
I've already got that.
Click to expand...

You're missing my point! She buys the mix, then the vodka, mixes up a little drink for herself while she shops, then sees your headsets on the list. By now she might be on her 3rd or 4th drink so she picks 'em up and throws 'em in the cart! Simple huh?
 
"Don't send a man to the grocery store" -- Jeanne Robertson

It’s tradition in the South and, I suspect, in most other areas of the country to take food to a friend who is sick or has an emergency. You get credit if you take over anything, more credit if you make it yourself.

For years in these situations, I took over a big bowl of my “special” potato salad. Then the place that made it for me burned down. Now little 7-Up pound cakes are my specialty. I make them by the dozen and freeze them. If someone gets sick and I’m out of town, my husband, Jerry, (a.k.a. “Left Brain”) takes one over.

I was getting ready to leave on a speaking trip when I heard that a friend was sick. I headed straight to my freezer, but there wasn’t a pound cake in it. Left Brain announced, “A lot of people have been sick. I’ve been running cakes all over the county.” Then he mumbled, “I might have eaten a couple of ’em myself.”

Now, once you establish a tradition (taking pound cakes, for example) and then miss a few times, another woman will jump in ahead of you, start showing up with pound cakes, and declare herself the pound-cake queen. We’ve all seen it happen. It’s not pretty. I had to get a pound cake made before I headed to the airport. I was really in a hurry, and making a pound cake wasn’t in my time plan. And to add to my dilemma, I didn’t have the ingredients. I needed Left Brain to make a quick trip to the grocery story while I packed.

He looked at his watch. “I can’t go, honey. I’m trying to get to badminton.”

“I just need a few ingredients,” I coaxed. “That badminton birdie is not flying away. And as you just admitted, you ate two of the cakes.”

He finally agreed—on one condition. “Just make sure I
can get through the express lane,” he said. I nodded.
He took the short list and left. I waited and waited. He didn’t come back. And he didn’t come back. I figured he had gone to badminton and forgotten me and the cake. I was about to call the grocery story to have him paged (again), when I heard the car pull in. Left Brain came hurrying through the door, grocery bags in hand.

It is important that you know I’m married to a nice guy. Left brained? Absolutely. Still, a nice guy. That noted, when he came through the door, he glared at me as he put down the sacks. “Gotta get the rest out of the car,” he muttered. I looked in the first sack. There was a pound of butter and two gigantic bottles of vanilla flavoring. Doling out a teaspoon and a half per cake, it would take years to use that much vanilla flavoring.

In the next sack were three dozen eggs. I only needed five eggs and had clearly written on the list to get a “dozen eggs.” Must have been a “special” on the eggs, I thought. In the next sack was a 3-pound tub of shortening. No, two tubs. In the next sack, two more. Twelve pounds of lard—enough to fry fish for a civic-club fund-raiser! But in that fourth sack, I found my list.

You also need to know that Left Brain is a smart man. He went to Duke University on a basketball scholarship, played basketball for four years, and graduated in the same four years. Then he got a master’s degree and a doctorate at The University of North Carolina. But I don’t care how many diplomas you have, if you have a left brain, it is going to kick in on you. His kicked in on him in that grocery store.

To make sure Left Brain could get through the express lane, I had, for probably the first time in my life, numbered my items:

1– pound of butter (No problem.)
2– large bottle of vanilla flavoring (Why did he get two?)
3– dozen eggs (One, two, three dozen—this man has a doctorate degree!)
4– can of shortening (One, two, three, four. Unbelievable!)
​
I could hear him coming back and quickly looked down at item No. 5. It was a 5-pound bag of sugar. I knew he was coming in the kitchen with 25 pounds of sugar. Item No. 6 was a 5-pound bag of all-purpose flour. Thirty
pounds of flour! He came stumbling in with bags in each hand, on both arms, and between his teeth and started plopping sugar and flour in 5-pound thuds on the kitchen floor. “One more trip ought to do it,” he glared.

I sneaked a look at my list. Item No. 7 was a bottle of 7-Up. I didn’t want that big 2-liter bottle because I was only going to make one cake. I wanted a six-pack of medium-size bottles that hang down from plastic. I started clearing a space on the kitchen floor.

In a few minutes, he was putting the 42 bottles among the other sacks.
“Well, obviously, they wouldn’t let me through the express lane,” he said.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have got to get to badminton.”

He started to leave, then walked back into the kitchen. “For the record,”
he began, “I figured out what I had done wrong, but by then she was ringing up the 7-Up.”

I was standing there among the sacks, when Left Brain stuck his head in the room one more time. “Don’t tell anybody,” he said.

Three days later, the cashier ringing up my items in the grocery store
commented, “I think I checked out your husband a few days ago. That was an interesting order.”

“Well, yes, let me explain,” I said. “Anytime a friend of ours gets sick, I take over a pound cake.”

She thought a few seconds, then asked, “Is there an epidemic?”​
 
mscard88 said:
Hey ya might be surprised! Used to layover in Toronto at a hotel near the airport. A few blocks away was a strip center with a 1) pilot supply store, 2) sports bar w/ killer waitresses, and 3) titty bar! I'm serious too. :yes:

Always thought whomever owned all that must be either a pilot, or knew how to get pilots in the door, rather doors. :D
Click to expand...

That man's a genius.
 
Nice try Tim..I also tried that for Christmas..mine was also a failure :(

[FONT=&quot]My List:[/FONT]


  • [FONT=&quot]Umbrella[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Undershirts (large/white/cotton t's)[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Beige dress socks[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Pilatus PC-12 Aircraft[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]iPhone 6s plus mount for car[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Craft beer subscription[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]"meat of the month" club (steak,etc)[/FONT]


[FONT=&quot]But I did get the meat of the month thing! Finishing up [FONT=&quot]the strip steaks this month with f[FONT=&quot]ilet m[FONT=&quot]ignon coming up afterwards.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
 
That's how I bought my plane.
 
mscard88 said:
Hey ya might be surprised! Used to layover in Toronto at a hotel near the airport. A few blocks away was a strip center with a 1) pilot supply store, 2) sports bar w/ killer waitresses, and 3) titty bar! I'm serious too. :yes:

Always thought whomever owned all that must be either a pilot, or knew how to get pilots in the door, rather doors. :D
Click to expand...

Toronto here I come!
 
Still waiting for the zinger..... Did I miss it. :idea:


AggieMike88 said:
"Don't send a man to the grocery store" -- Jeanne Robertson

It’s tradition in the South and, I suspect, in most other areas of the country to take food to a friend who is sick or has an emergency. You get credit if you take over anything, more credit if you make it yourself.

For years in these situations, I took over a big bowl of my “special” potato salad. Then the place that made it for me burned down. Now little 7-Up pound cakes are my specialty. I make them by the dozen and freeze them. If someone gets sick and I’m out of town, my husband, Jerry, (a.k.a. “Left Brain”) takes one over.

I was getting ready to leave on a speaking trip when I heard that a friend was sick. I headed straight to my freezer, but there wasn’t a pound cake in it. Left Brain announced, “A lot of people have been sick. I’ve been running cakes all over the county.” Then he mumbled, “I might have eaten a couple of ’em myself.”

Now, once you establish a tradition (taking pound cakes, for example) and then miss a few times, another woman will jump in ahead of you, start showing up with pound cakes, and declare herself the pound-cake queen. We’ve all seen it happen. It’s not pretty. I had to get a pound cake made before I headed to the airport. I was really in a hurry, and making a pound cake wasn’t in my time plan. And to add to my dilemma, I didn’t have the ingredients. I needed Left Brain to make a quick trip to the grocery story while I packed.

He looked at his watch. “I can’t go, honey. I’m trying to get to badminton.”

“I just need a few ingredients,” I coaxed. “That badminton birdie is not flying away. And as you just admitted, you ate two of the cakes.”

He finally agreed—on one condition. “Just make sure I
can get through the express lane,” he said. I nodded.
He took the short list and left. I waited and waited. He didn’t come back. And he didn’t come back. I figured he had gone to badminton and forgotten me and the cake. I was about to call the grocery story to have him paged (again), when I heard the car pull in. Left Brain came hurrying through the door, grocery bags in hand.

It is important that you know I’m married to a nice guy. Left brained? Absolutely. Still, a nice guy. That noted, when he came through the door, he glared at me as he put down the sacks. “Gotta get the rest out of the car,” he muttered. I looked in the first sack. There was a pound of butter and two gigantic bottles of vanilla flavoring. Doling out a teaspoon and a half per cake, it would take years to use that much vanilla flavoring.

In the next sack were three dozen eggs. I only needed five eggs and had clearly written on the list to get a “dozen eggs.” Must have been a “special” on the eggs, I thought. In the next sack was a 3-pound tub of shortening. No, two tubs. In the next sack, two more. Twelve pounds of lard—enough to fry fish for a civic-club fund-raiser! But in that fourth sack, I found my list.

You also need to know that Left Brain is a smart man. He went to Duke University on a basketball scholarship, played basketball for four years, and graduated in the same four years. Then he got a master’s degree and a doctorate at The University of North Carolina. But I don’t care how many diplomas you have, if you have a left brain, it is going to kick in on you. His kicked in on him in that grocery store.

To make sure Left Brain could get through the express lane, I had, for probably the first time in my life, numbered my items:

1– pound of butter (No problem.)
2– large bottle of vanilla flavoring (Why did he get two?)
3– dozen eggs (One, two, three dozen—this man has a doctorate degree!)
4– can of shortening (One, two, three, four. Unbelievable!)
​
I could hear him coming back and quickly looked down at item No. 5. It was a 5-pound bag of sugar. I knew he was coming in the kitchen with 25 pounds of sugar. Item No. 6 was a 5-pound bag of all-purpose flour. Thirty
pounds of flour! He came stumbling in with bags in each hand, on both arms, and between his teeth and started plopping sugar and flour in 5-pound thuds on the kitchen floor. “One more trip ought to do it,” he glared.

I sneaked a look at my list. Item No. 7 was a bottle of 7-Up. I didn’t want that big 2-liter bottle because I was only going to make one cake. I wanted a six-pack of medium-size bottles that hang down from plastic. I started clearing a space on the kitchen floor.

In a few minutes, he was putting the 42 bottles among the other sacks.
“Well, obviously, they wouldn’t let me through the express lane,” he said.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have got to get to badminton.”

He started to leave, then walked back into the kitchen. “For the record,”
he began, “I figured out what I had done wrong, but by then she was ringing up the 7-Up.”

I was standing there among the sacks, when Left Brain stuck his head in the room one more time. “Don’t tell anybody,” he said.

Three days later, the cashier ringing up my items in the grocery store
commented, “I think I checked out your husband a few days ago. That was an interesting order.”

“Well, yes, let me explain,” I said. “Anytime a friend of ours gets sick, I take over a pound cake.”

She thought a few seconds, then asked, “Is there an epidemic?”​
Click to expand...
 
Caramon13 said:
Nice try Tim..I also tried that for Christmas..mine was also a failure :(

[FONT=&quot]My List:[/FONT]


  • [FONT=&quot]Umbrella[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Undershirts (large/white/cotton t's)[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Beige dress socks[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Pilatus PC-12 Aircraft[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]iPhone 6s plus mount for car[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Craft beer subscription[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]"meat of the month" club (steak,etc)[/FONT]


[FONT=&quot]But I did get the meat of the month thing! Finishing up [FONT=&quot]the strip steaks this month with f[FONT=&quot]ilet m[FONT=&quot]ignon coming up afterwards.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
Click to expand...

You can grab a nice Pilatus for 2mil pretty easily. Should be within reach for next Christmas.
 
Milk
Bread
Cheese
Hot bi-hookers and blow
Bacon
Beans


.... she never goes for mine either. :goofy:
 
I once put an item on my wifes grocery list.

snew.

She called me and asked me what is snew.

I told her, nothing, what's new with you?

I had to fix my own meal that night AND sleep on the chair in front of the Tv....

Filipinas have no sense of humor......:lol::lol::lol:
 
Oh yes, she got the essentials. :yesnod:

She countered with a BMW M4. So I guess I'm sticking with my David Clarks and she with her Honda Pilot.
 
My mechanic was reading out the list of items in the estimate of how much it was going to be to pull the engine and send it out to overhaul (not mine, but another Navion owner).
In the middle of the list of miscellaneous stuff like removing the engine and sending the mags out separately was embedded:

Truck Payment $320

(The mechanic had just bought a new truck). It took the guy about ten seconds to realize what he was writing down and question the truck payment line.
 
Old joke -

Guy comes back from the grocery store with 12 gallons of milk.
The wife asks, "Why on earth did you get 12 gallons of milk?"
Husband, "You said, 'Get a gallon of milk. If they have eggs, get a dozen.'"
 
AggieMike88 said:
"Don't send a man to the grocery store" -- Jeanne Robertson

It’s tradition in the South and, I suspect, in most other areas of the country to take food to a friend who is sick or has an emergency. You get credit if you take over anything, more credit if you make it yourself.

For years in these situations, I took over a big bowl of my “special” potato salad. Then the place that made it for me burned down. Now little 7-Up pound cakes are my specialty. I make them by the dozen and freeze them. If someone gets sick and I’m out of town, my husband, Jerry, (a.k.a. “Left Brain”) takes one over.

I was getting ready to leave on a speaking trip when I heard that a friend was sick. I headed straight to my freezer, but there wasn’t a pound cake in it. Left Brain announced, “A lot of people have been sick. I’ve been running cakes all over the county.” Then he mumbled, “I might have eaten a couple of ’em myself.”

Now, once you establish a tradition (taking pound cakes, for example) and then miss a few times, another woman will jump in ahead of you, start showing up with pound cakes, and declare herself the pound-cake queen. We’ve all seen it happen. It’s not pretty. I had to get a pound cake made before I headed to the airport. I was really in a hurry, and making a pound cake wasn’t in my time plan. And to add to my dilemma, I didn’t have the ingredients. I needed Left Brain to make a quick trip to the grocery story while I packed.

He looked at his watch. “I can’t go, honey. I’m trying to get to badminton.”

“I just need a few ingredients,” I coaxed. “That badminton birdie is not flying away. And as you just admitted, you ate two of the cakes.”

He finally agreed—on one condition. “Just make sure I
can get through the express lane,” he said. I nodded.
He took the short list and left. I waited and waited. He didn’t come back. And he didn’t come back. I figured he had gone to badminton and forgotten me and the cake. I was about to call the grocery story to have him paged (again), when I heard the car pull in. Left Brain came hurrying through the door, grocery bags in hand.

It is important that you know I’m married to a nice guy. Left brained? Absolutely. Still, a nice guy. That noted, when he came through the door, he glared at me as he put down the sacks. “Gotta get the rest out of the car,” he muttered. I looked in the first sack. There was a pound of butter and two gigantic bottles of vanilla flavoring. Doling out a teaspoon and a half per cake, it would take years to use that much vanilla flavoring.

In the next sack were three dozen eggs. I only needed five eggs and had clearly written on the list to get a “dozen eggs.” Must have been a “special” on the eggs, I thought. In the next sack was a 3-pound tub of shortening. No, two tubs. In the next sack, two more. Twelve pounds of lard—enough to fry fish for a civic-club fund-raiser! But in that fourth sack, I found my list.

You also need to know that Left Brain is a smart man. He went to Duke University on a basketball scholarship, played basketball for four years, and graduated in the same four years. Then he got a master’s degree and a doctorate at The University of North Carolina. But I don’t care how many diplomas you have, if you have a left brain, it is going to kick in on you. His kicked in on him in that grocery store.

To make sure Left Brain could get through the express lane, I had, for probably the first time in my life, numbered my items:

1– pound of butter (No problem.)
2– large bottle of vanilla flavoring (Why did he get two?)
3– dozen eggs (One, two, three dozen—this man has a doctorate degree!)
4– can of shortening (One, two, three, four. Unbelievable!)
​
I could hear him coming back and quickly looked down at item No. 5. It was a 5-pound bag of sugar. I knew he was coming in the kitchen with 25 pounds of sugar. Item No. 6 was a 5-pound bag of all-purpose flour. Thirty
pounds of flour! He came stumbling in with bags in each hand, on both arms, and between his teeth and started plopping sugar and flour in 5-pound thuds on the kitchen floor. “One more trip ought to do it,” he glared.

I sneaked a look at my list. Item No. 7 was a bottle of 7-Up. I didn’t want that big 2-liter bottle because I was only going to make one cake. I wanted a six-pack of medium-size bottles that hang down from plastic. I started clearing a space on the kitchen floor.

In a few minutes, he was putting the 42 bottles among the other sacks.
“Well, obviously, they wouldn’t let me through the express lane,” he said.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have got to get to badminton.”

He started to leave, then walked back into the kitchen. “For the record,”
he began, “I figured out what I had done wrong, but by then she was ringing up the 7-Up.”

I was standing there among the sacks, when Left Brain stuck his head in the room one more time. “Don’t tell anybody,” he said.

Three days later, the cashier ringing up my items in the grocery store
commented, “I think I checked out your husband a few days ago. That was an interesting order.”

“Well, yes, let me explain,” I said. “Anytime a friend of ours gets sick, I take over a pound cake.”

She thought a few seconds, then asked, “Is there an epidemic?”​
Click to expand...

I love Jeanne Robertson.
 
Sex should have been on that list, since you were asking for the impossible.
 
Caramon13 said:
Nice try Tim..I also tried that for Christmas..mine was also a failure :(

[FONT=&quot]My List:[/FONT]


  • [FONT=&quot]Umbrella[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Undershirts (large/white/cotton t's)[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Beige dress socks[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Pilatus PC-12 Aircraft[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]iPhone 6s plus mount for car[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]Craft beer subscription[/FONT]
  • [FONT=&quot]"meat of the month" club (steak,etc)[/FONT]


[FONT=&quot]But I did get the meat of the month thing! Finishing up [FONT=&quot]the strip steaks this month with f[FONT=&quot]ilet m[FONT=&quot]ignon coming up afterwards.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
Click to expand...
Wow that is a great list! I want this too!!!!
 
MAKG1 said:
There is a regional electronics chain around here that got started as a grocery store.

http://www.frys.com

I don't think you can get an aviation headset, but you can get other types.
Click to expand...

As I recall, Fry's Food was the creation of the old man. A well known chain. His sons grew up in retailing, but had no interest in being grocers. In the 1980s (when I worked in Silicon Valley) the sons opened Fry's Electronics. Everything a computer nerd needed, chips and chips on adjacent aisles. That's computer chips and potato chips. That first store is in its third location. Plus the others they've opened over the years. Fry's was a great place back then to see how the Microsoft vs. Apple wars were going. Just look at the number of aisles dedicated to the software for each. Apple was losing, badly.

I haven't been in a Fry's in years, but they were a great place to shop. Not always the best place to buy, especially if you needed customer service. That was a very weak point for them back then.
 
Ghery said:
... the sons opened Fry's Electronics. Everything a computer nerd needed, chips and chips on adjacent aisles. That's computer chips and potato chips.
Click to expand...

It was the same with reading material. Software manuals and Playboy.
 
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