I didn’t plan to accessorize with Marinara sauce tonight.
I certainly didn’t expect to have it from the tip of my shoes to the top of my shoulder.
We were beginning to check out at Trader Joe’s in Shrewsbury tonight. The nice gal working the register (I’m sorry, I can’t remember anyone’s name.) pulled our carriage toward her and began to unload it and scan the items. (Yes, they really do empty your cart, ring up your order and they will even bag your groceries for you if you want!) She reached for a small jar of marinara sauce and somehow it came in contact with the counter and crashed to the floor. Broken glass and marinara sauce went everywhere. Luckily no one was cut by the glass, but I was in just the wrong location and took a direct sauce hit - from tiny spots to quarter sized splats and splotches. I sort of froze. The poor gal who dropped the sauce apologized, to which I replied it was just an accident. As I stood there not quite knowing how to de-sauce-ify myself, another TJ’s staff person came over and whisked our grocery cart off to an open register to be checked out. Chuck headed off to replace the marinara sauce. Another gal came over and took charge of the clean up and the poor gal who had dropped the sauce brought me some paper towels.
Paper towels are a poor adversary to marinara sauce. But I blotted and brushed as best I could. All the while feeling very grateful that I had chosen to wear a pair of gray slacks and a navy blue top today - not something in ivory, ecru or winter white! I thought I was all set or as all set as I could be, when I realized the sauce had also blazed a trail on my right arm up to my shoulder. I headed to the paper towel dispenser and went for round two of blot and brush. Once I had done what I could, short of a washing machine, to make myself presentable, I went to join Chuck who was finishing paying for our groceries. As I caught up to him, I spotted a bouquet of flowers popping out of the top of one of our grocery bags. The Trader Joe’s gals had given them to us for being such “good sports”. So not only did the staff work like a well oiled machine to get everything sorted out as best they could, we got flowers to boot. Well played TJ’s. That’s why we love you. And the smell of the flowers helped to offset the Eau d’ Italian Kitchen I wore for the rest of the night!