Eighteen cans of Labatt Blue Light beer cost $13 or $14 at the discount grocery. As evidenced by the accompanying photo (which, in the publishing industry, we call "art"), I purchased some the other day.
Since it is not yet cold enough to store the Labatt Blue Light beer in the garage (which, in Cleveland is a law during the months of November through March--give or take a few weeks either way), I was unloading some of the 18-pack into the refrigerator.
The proceedings were going along well enough until I pulled out one can that was not only distressed, but empty despite having the pop tab intact (furthest can to the left, click image to enlarge).
I could either take the Labatt Blue Light 18-pack back to the discount grocery and raise hell, or write the brewer/distributor. As quickly as it had arisen, however, my fury subsided. Frankly, the thought of a kerfuffle over a 75¢ can of beer exhausted me. The cardboard case showed no signs of leakage (I was a bit worried about the interior of the Mini Cooper). Clearly, the can had burst days ago, if not at some point during packaging. Damage was largely contained, save the wasted 12 ounces of Labatt Blue Light beer. Swallowing this defeat whole, I moved on.
Then yesterday at the high-end grocery, this:
The debacle was courtesy of a sharp turn and my backpack-style purse. The employee who first discovered me standing sheepishly over a pool of wine adjacent to the deli counter offered a polite tight-lipped smile and said, "These things happen," in a way that indicated she wished said things did not happen. The guy with the mop bucket said nothing, just stepped through his bovine-like motions like he'd done a thousand times before.
Being the impetus for "clean up in the deli aisle" (admittedly imagined as such communications are no longer public, but have given way to discrete private intercom systems) is not exactly who I want to be, but once you're there, you're there.
At the checkout, my lame offers of payment for the broken bottle of wine to the clerk were rapidly declined. She did ask me if I wanted to "lick it up off the floor." I didn't say anything, just trudged off with my purchases.
I normally try to keep my karma freshly shampooed, but could anyone blame me for being concerned about all this? Is it some sort of sign?
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