Nips' Conniptions

That place is not Santana’s Food Emporium. This gleaming, glass and stainless steel clad, sterile establishment is a purveyor of such delicacies as steamed clams and lobster bisque. On Tuesdays, caviar is the special and is served with a smile from the remarkably attractive bevy of employees on staff. Complete with modest video surveillance and a 24-hour plainclothes police presence, shopping there feels just as safe and cozy as it is appetizing.

Ok, now completely invert that and add a perpetually blinking “open” sign and you’ve got just about the most scary dump you’ve ever tried to buy a candy bar in. Seriously… not to be sexist, but I don’t allow my female friends to go in there. Emily almost got taken advantage of right in the middle of aisle one (of 2). My legs were sore for a week from running away like a small child.

So a while back, I was in the rat’s nest trying to pick up some candles for a certain beautiful Asian’s birthday and an elderly gentleman was making his way back behind the counter in search of a newspaper. Keep in mind that this is 10:00pm. The attendant (Opposite of attractive, remember) began berating the gentleman (opposite of intelligent) who could only communicate in grunts and simply could not understand why a.) he was being accosted, b.) he could not find a paper, and c.) he was still alive. This remarkable exchange between two of the most amazingly… amazing… people I’ve ever seen went on far, far too long. It was shocking and it made me question humanity’s right to exist on this planet. Yowsa.

4 hours later, after the introduction of an Iraqi, the Clippers (or some such NBA team…), and Sam, Capt., Jack, et al, and in an entirely different part of town, the birthday awesome squadron spilled out of Drink and onto a busy Hennepin Ave. While attempting to flag down a cab, a young man came up to me and said “HEY.” To which I replied “….hey?”

“Hey, you were there!! You were there! You saw the cosmic craziness! At the place!”

“Ummmm…”

“The dude! With the paper! And the fat chick!”

“Ummm…. YEAH! Heck yeah, I was there! I’m scarred for life. This is my cab.”

Anyway, whenever I get the chance to revisit the sty, I do not. Occasionally, however, exceptions must be made. I’ve been known to have a bit of an “Ice Cream Problem.” That’s another story completely, trust me. Suffice to say that I am an aficionado of Benjamin and Jerome’s wares and occasionally feel the need to indulge myself. The last time I did so was over a month ago… at Santana’s.

Last night I found my fridge devoid of pretty much anything. Milk was no exception. Armed with rubbing alcohol, a full length rubber suit, 4 condoms, and a particulate mask, I decided to “ford the river” and head to visit the STuDly grocer on the corner. It is possible that some ice cream ended up being purchased along with the milk. AND SHE REMEMBERED WHAT FLAVOR I BOUGHT LAST MONTH.

The moral of the story is: Holy crap, Cherry Garcia AND Brownie Batter combined in one delicious pint?

I have a history of taking off my shirt.

Posted by ndNips on Tuesday, April 11, 2006 at 8:55 PM | Permalink