Why can't all trips to the grocery store be this amazing?
I just fixed my woolen military coat because moving to Vancouver from Edmonton has turned me into a weak little whimpering pansy when it comes to the cold (it's a whopping -3 right now) and I can't handle it without 15 layers. I head off, newly repaired coat on body, gigantic furry hat on head.
Checkout Guy: "Wow. You've got this whole Russian aristocracy thing going on. You royalty or something?"
Me: "Well, technically I *am* a Baroness, not that it counts for anything in THIS country."
Checkout Guy: <checks out all my groceries, I pay> "Thank you very much..." <looks at airmiles card> "...Baroness Romanov. It's been a pleasure to serve you." <salutes>
Old lady behind me: <baffled>
Love it. This is why I should have a camera crew that arbitrarily follows me around.
Posted via email from the marvelous world of robynn ilashchuk
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