Please Enjoy the Cheeseburgers

Karlo reminded me the other day that we needed to buy cheese for our party. I would never have remembered this because I haven’t had a cheeseburger in over 10 years. I was dreading the whole cheese buying business because I never have the patience to stand in line at the deli. It just pains me. But last night I was a trooper and took my little ticket and waited my turn. I had time to examine all the cheese options and of course I scoped out the best deal. With my Big Y silver coins I could get Land o Lakes for $4.98/lb. When it was my turn I specifically asked for Land o Lakes, sliced with a number 1 cut.

Instead what I got was some other brand with a number 3 cut. I grabbed the packages and realized that my $30 worth of cheese is not going to cover half of the burgers, but at this point I just wanted to move on.

So we get to the register and after everything is rung up I hand the clerk my silver coins and she questioned what they were for. I said, “the cheese” and she explained that was only good for the Land o Lakes cheese. I could instantly feel my blood pressure rising. I told her that is exactly what I ordered at the deli. By this time Karlo has already made his way to the car and packed all our goodies into it. Now I’m standing there at a standstill with the clerk. All she could say at that point was to bring the cheese, and my receipt, to customer service for help. I was ready to scream. I had to run outside to get the piles of cheese, go to customer service and explain the whole story. As IF standing in line at the deli was not torture enough for me.

Cutting to the chase, I got my $5 stinkin’ dollars back and left in such a huff that, are you ready for this? I left the darn cheese on the counter. Karlo assumed that I was ticked off and RETURNED the cheese and never questioned why I walked out of the store empty-handed. What a nightmare. I had to call the store when we got home and explain what happened. They supposedly have my cheese in a cooler waiting for me. Just looking at those cheeseburgers on Saturday is going to upset me. And I’m not going grocery shopping for a month after this ordeal! Sorry Karlo.