
Yesterday I went to work for Rob & Laura, my nonagenarian clients. If you follow my blog you already know that I adore them and we have fun doing mundane errands. Yesterday did not disappoint. Laura was getting a hair cut at a nearby salon while Rob and I did some food shopping.
We were in the frozen food aisle at the intersection of peas and dried beef (in Pennsylvania you must be age 75 or greater to purchase dried beef) when we bumped into Marty. You might think, how lovely is Marty a personal friend, acquaintance or helpful employee? Those are all really good guesses so don’t berate yourself for being wrong. Nay, nay friends, Marty is a robot who wanders the grocery store scaring the sh*t out of small children, robophobics (robophobia is real, I Googled it) and customers with a touch of dementia.
In fairness to Rob, Marty showed up out of nowhere. Just appeared at the end of an aisle. Marty and Rob starred at each other for a solid two minutes. Rob watched in a trance as Marty did that awkward oh-shit-where-do-I-go-now robot dance. I’ve only ever seen it before when the Roomba ricochets down the hallway like some modern day version of pinball or drunk staggering down an alley after last call. The worst part is that Marty doesn’t seem overly useful. He’s supposed to clean up spills or something but he’s no Rosie from the Jetsons that’s for sure.
After the grocery store we collected Laura and made our way to Miracle Ear and then a meat store. Rob has a special fondness for the meat store and he purchased several items. When we got back to the house I noticed that the meat drawer in their fridge was overflowing. I date everything and I noticed somethings from mid February. I pointed this out to Laura who assured me that an exhaustive sniff test would be performed before they consumed anything. Then I emailed their adult children to alert them of the rotting meat in the fridge.
After my outing with Rob and Laura I went home. I got home early and offered to make lunch for my husband. I made him a sandwich, it was a fine sandwich by any standard. Later I asked him how he liked it and he replied with a “meh, needed more seasoning”. Then I threw a heavy object in his general direction. Through keen observation he was able to recognize that this response did not please me. Then he said (in a heavy Brooklyn accent) “whadda ya want me to lie?” To which I replied, “yes, yes I do….unless it is in regard to fidelity or finances, lie to me.”
Hahaha, that’s so typical husband speak. Maybe because as a wife we tend to make them walk on eggshells every so often? I don’t know, I have been divorced for over twenty years so I could be wrong, lol.
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He’s just a foodie…acts like he gets paid to critique meals…he needs reminders that each meal isn’t a New York Times review of some fancy restaurant…I’m a working mom trying to feed four people with distinctly different palates. I would be thrilled if someone offered to make me a sandwich.
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I heard the other day that a robot was sent into a hospital room to tell the family that their father was dying. I really think that’s taking things a little too far!
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I saw that and posted it on my business page that is some bullshit right there, should never happen.
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I used to be excited about the possibility of a future with robots, back when I thought they’d be like C-3PO and R2D2, or even Robby from ‘Forbidden Planet’. Marty’s personality leaves so much to be desired.
Also I don’t know what more seasoning the sandwich needed but I suspect the salt and pepper shakers were within your husband’s reach, and if he really wanted it he could have added more ketchup, mustard, or raspberry syrup. I’m not going to judge whatever he wants to put on his sandwich.
Unless it’s that new Mayochup.
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Marty was definitely lacking in personality. Agree on the condiments :).
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