I don’t care if I’m holding a newborn or juggling balls of fire, I will stop ANYTHING if a commercial like the one I wrote below comes on the radio. I begin every day with the prayer that no one is harmed by my obsession with the hilarious ditties (the real ones). Yesterday I bellied up to a salad bar and a similar tune began playing in this warped piece of matter called my brain because of my experience there. There were NO MORE sunflower seeds at the salad bar, you see. Boo and hoo. There is usually a huge bowl of them at the end of the salad bar for you to sprinkle (or dump) until your heart’s content. If it weren’t for the fact that I get tasered every time I try, I would start at the opposite end of the bar, grab the gargantuan bowl of sunflower seeds and add a bit of Ranch dressing, a few pieces of lettuce, a cucumber slice and a tomato to it for my crunchy lunch. THIS time, however, there was nothing. NO sunflower seeds. All of the hungry humans surrounding me had devoured every last stinkin’ one of them. I found a few hanging out in Mr. Gray Beard’s mouth (he was closest to the salad bar at the time), which I shamelessly snagged and devoured, but…besides those, allllllllllllll of those seeds were now sloshing around in the gastric acid…of other people. Seconds after this most horrendous incident, a song came to me. This was song was devoted to “Ms. Salad Bar Stocker Lady“, however, because no men stock this salad bar. No, they don’t, brother. Typically, the songs recognize the achievements amongst men in their various odd jobs, but this time….the song in my head was focusing on just the opposite. It went a little something like this:
I present….These Ladies Should Be Famous
(these ladies should be famouuuuus)
Today we salute, YOU, Ms. Salad Bar Stocker Lady
(Ms. Salad Bar Stocker LAYYYYYYYEEEEEDEH!)
You do your darndest to make sure that the Romaine & iceberg lettuce, mixed greens and spinach don’t lack any toys
(Let’s play catch with the beans called garbanzo!)
You know people want olives, so you stuff those little iced buckets full with both green aaaaaaaaaaand black, pits included
(Can I fit in one moooooore?)
You also know that banana peppers make people smile wider, so you passionately lug the heavy containers to and from the kitchen with those flourescent vegetables
(I think my stomach is gloooohh-oh-wing!!!)
The one thing you fail to notice, however, is the rapidly dwindling supply of sunflower seeds
(Hope she can afford LASIK!!!)
People scoop and scoop and scoop and scoop the seeds and you never even realize the bowl needs to be replenished.
So, crack open a package of glasses, Ms. Salad Bar Stocker Lady, and know that you are the REAL reason behind my deep and utterly inescapable depression………..and pathetic salad.
(Ms. Salad Bar Stocker Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyeeedehhhhhhh)
Next time, I’m going take a lunch break at 9:02 a.m. and take a shower from the full sunflower seeds bowl while laughing at the top of my lungs. I will then sweep up all the sunflower seeds while berating myself for being so wasteful, dirty and obnoxious, stuff them in my pockets and split leap the heck outta there.