And it's wasn't for doing something uncouth like starting a food fight in the condiment aisle, not was it for misbehaving in a girls-gone-wild-ish manner by, say, untying my halter top in the produce section and hawking my own ripe melons.
Nope, it was for taking photos in the grocery store. Apparently, this is a no-no. Or is it, perhaps, a nein-nein (not the same as a sixty-nine, which as we all know is scads more fun than a trip to some crummy old market). I was tappity-tapped on the shoulder as I stood before the meat case by a scrawny, goateed Swiss who explained something to me about Sicherheit (security) and that the store didn't want me taking photos, especially photos that included prices. I tried to explain Best American Poetry Blog to him in my own halting German, but I lost him at "Eben, ich bin Dicheterin..." (Well, I'm a poet, see...). Security? Really? As in: If Jillie takes pictures of dumb Swiss food, the terrorists will win? Well, I don't think so, exactly. It has something to do with advertising and price wars and rules, rules, rules. Whatever. I still managed to snap these choice shots of inadvertently funny food-stuffs...
Is this how one proposes an afternoon potable date with an old spell-caster?
If she doesn't like the offer, she might knee you in the groin. Then you'll be left to contend with
Alas, this is what my posts here too-often are:
of
and not enough
material. As such, it's a good thing I've got a bodacious pair of these aforementioned
Now this isn't funny at all, it's just not something you typically see in an American supermarket:
It's a stack of rabbits and rabbit parts. Cook! Where's my Hasenpfeffer?!
This is also something you don't often see, and I'll be damned if I know what in the hell someone's supposed to do with these:
Yup, pigtails! (This photo was taken post-dress-down by supermarket employee, which is why you see my un-manicured hand covering the price of the pork parts.)
The author of this post hamming (ha!) it up. (BTW, I have NO CLUE what those scratches across my neck are all about... Werewolves of Zurich?)
That's all, folks!*
* This post had the both the intention and the potential to be much clever-er and funnier-er than it wound up being. This, I blame on the Swiss Photo Patrol. Fuckers.
