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| (Coffee for Battlestar Gallactica) |
Weren’t we just chatting yesterday
about grammatical errors at stores?
Sure we were. Check out yesterday’s blog post, and you’ll
see it. In that post, I openly admit to
defacing a deli case in a grocery store because someone had written in neon pen
that the deli sold hot dog’s. I don’t
know what part of the hot dogs they were selling, so I scratched off the errant
apostrophe.
Today I am at a different
grocery store, standing at the deli counter, deciding what kind of turkey to
buy. I notice a sale on one particular
variation of the store brand, and I have to look at the sign several times
because I simply haven’t heard of this before.
I mean, there’s oven roasted turkey, honey cured turkey, turkey breast,
turkey loaf, etc.
This, though, is BISTO
TURKEY.
Bisto? Bisto.
Hmmmmm, store brand Bisto Turkey.
I can tell that my head is
tilted slightly to the left, and I can feel the semi-quizzical expression on my
face. Do I dare? I mean, should I? I honestly don’t know what Bisto Turkey is
nor what it looks like nor from whence it came.
But, it’s my turn at the deli. No
one else is here, and I’ve grabbed my number – #1 – so I do not have time to
debate my options.
Bisto Turkey is on sale!
It’s not like anyone else
is here to catch my blunder if I screw it up.
Is it BEE-sto? BIH-sto? Be-STOW?
Kind of like the time the woman at the deli asked for Paul-ish ham
instead of Pole-ish ham.
Sweat starts breaking out
across my brow. Okay, to be honest, I
have just come from the track where I walked-jogged two miles, so I am still
sweating profusely, anyway.
That’s when I notice
it. Yup.
Right there in the deli case is a hunk of this on-sale turkey, still in
its wrapper, clearly marked: “BISTRO
TURKEY.” Bistro. Bistro!
That’s what I thought, but the sign … oh, the stupid sign …. The store-printed,
manufactured, official sign clearly and without question says BISTO.
I pull out my cell phone
to take a picture, but the deli clerk is standing right in front of me and the
Bistro Turkey, so this whole idea seems awkward. “If you don’t mind,” I say nonchalantly, or
as nonchalantly as one can be when taking random pictures of deli meat in
cases, “I don’t know what kind of ham my son wants me to get, so I’m going to
show him this picture to prove there’s more than one kind of ham.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
I point my phone in the
general direction of the ham, but I aim for the Bistro Turkey. Yes, I am the pervert taking pictures of
processed meat. Sick, sick, sick person. Sick, sick, sick grammar nerd. However, I am a person obsessed. This grossly grammatically negligent label is
obviously something that was mass-produced.
Other stores must have also marked their Bistro Turkey as Bisto
Turkey. Everyone will be confused. There will be rioting in the streets.
In the end, I get my pound
(“A little over okay?”) of Bistro turkey, and all is right with the known
universe. I don’t berate the deli clerk,
I don’t send a manager to the case to review the correct spelling of the word bistro, and I don’t attempt to fix the
sign of my own accord. I’d say I’m over
it, but, obviously, since I am posting my blog about it, I guess you can say I’m
still somewhat obsessed about it all.
At least I’m consistent.
