Mollification

As my smallest pair of rigid distressed Paper Denim Cloth jeans has become the solitary measure of my success, I now frequent Trader Joe's to stock up on such stereotypical healthy items as baked tofu, navel oranges and baby carrots. My bland diet has permanently dampened my mood and stripped grocery shopping of all joy, and I lower my gaze to avoid locking eyes with boxes of chocolate dipped carbohydrates as I stalk the fluorescent lit aisles.

The other day as I unpacked my grocery bags, I was annoyed to discover that the bag of sliced green apples I had just purchased was missing. Reviewing my receipt, I noted that I had indeed been charged for a bag of sliced green apples. I checked my car. No apples. Where the fuck were my sliced green apples? Ughhhhh. Why is it that I must suffer for the incompetence of others?

Later back at Trader Joe's, I stormed customer service waving my crinkled receipt about, demanding a bag of replacement sliced green apples. As I left the store with my new bag of apples, I held the receipt up in the air once more, and murmured in annoyance at the inconvenience of it all. Upon returning home, I put the apples in my fridge and went about my day.

Last night, I explored my apartment for a snack. I discovered I am now proud owner of two bags of sliced green apples. Yes, I swindled Trader Joe's. Not only am I a black hearted bandit, but I also seem to be losing my mind. I also lack the ability to let unfortunate little mix-ups like this go, and therefore look forward to apologizing tonight to a balding vegan in a Hawaiian shirt who will judge me from now on as I shop for organically grown rabbit food. Oh well, my pride isn't worth much more than a three-dollar bag of fruit anyways.

On an unrelated note, I was thrilled to pull up next to this outside of 711 this morning.
Yes, I'm immature and too easily amused, but we've established this. Bimbo, Inc. Purveyors of bread and other baked goods. I couldn't help but be curious as to why a company would choose such an unfortunate name. The explanation isn't shocking. Founded in Mexico in 1945, "bimbo" had no literal translation in Spanish at that time and was chosen as a rough hybrid of Bambi and Dumbo, the names of the company's then two largest competitors. Bambi, Dumbo and Bimbo. Sounds like a bad porn involving stuffed toys from the happiest place on earth.

How was the company to know then that it's arbitrary and fanciful name would later be defined as "1. a young woman indulged by rich and powerful older men." A term used as early as 1919 in the United States, flappers in the 20s meant it as a compliment. "Bimbo" is derived from the Italian word "bambino," which translates roughly to young man or boy. It was only decades later that bimbo would be used in reference to busty blondes. Don't feel bad for Bimbo. As one of the world's largest food corporations, I don't think they worry too much about the occasional chuckle and the lone person compelled to blog about it.