Close Call Weekend

This weekend was scary, as each time we left the house bad things happened.

Saturday -- someone was stabbed while we were grocery shopping.
Sunday -- we nearly bumped into that idiot Vincent Gallo.

Yesterday we got all fussy about what kind of salmon (wild!) we should have for dinner and drove to an out-of-the-way grocery store. We parked, went in and five minutes later someone ran into the store and yelled "Someone's been stabbed, call 911!" It's in those moments that you realize people have a hard time computing such sentences, because everyone was paralyzed, until someone finally called 911. While waiting for the police to arrive I decided it would be the perfect time to panic shop and proceeded to buy chips, ice cream, chocolate bars and beer! We stalled around and when we were finally brave enough to leave they were loading up an ambulance. They were also wrapping the parking lot with yellow crime scene tape. Our car was inside the scene. One of the officers told us we could leave "in a second" the other police officer told us, "get out of the crime scene!" (strangely, we've heard that one before!) We discussed taking the bus home and wondered if they would let us get the ice cream out of the car first (we managed to put our groceries in the trunk before they told us to leave "the scene".) How to explain to a police officer that your stress purchase is melting in the car and THAT'S why you have to get home immediately. We stood around with the other trapped gawkers (and crime witnesses who had to stick around and give statements) but then the wind took pity on us and broke the police tape! At this same time the woman parked next to us came out and we both made our appeal -- LET US OUT! The tape had broken, the police officers decided they wanted our spots and they (whew) let us take our melting panic ice cream home. We were going to run another errand, but decided it would be best to GO HOME AND STAY THERE. Plus, there was so much panic food to eat. After dinner, the panic ice cream was enjoyed with strawberries and Ms. Stella's delicious pound cake.

On Sunday we took our chances and left the house again. I was still panicked (it involved a work-related "inappropriate" video called "Party With Beer" - don't ask.) I needed to go record shopping (see music/healing/therapy). As we exited Amoeba I nearly bumped into none other than Vincent Gallo. Those of you who know me (which means you read this blog) may know of my hatred for Vincent Gallo. All of a sudden, there were his beady blue eyes and scruffy beard face walking down Haight Street -- After he passed, I whacked the Chef's shoulder and said, BAH! THAT'S VINCENT GALLO!

There are so many people in the world -- why would we stumble upon Vincent Gallo? VG holds a lifetime spot on my short, yet venomous super hater list. I was going to link to his website so you could see what an idiot he is, but I hate him too much. Do not go there and give him the pleasure of one more user count click.

Scary weekend, but not tragic. We remain unharmed, we were not witnesses to a crime scene, we got our car home so we could eat ice cream and we didn't make physical contact with Vincent Gallo.

Close calls, the super scary narrowly avoided. Whew.