The husband sent me an email at work the other day asking me to get some guacamole to go with some nachos we were having that evening.
I had a nagging feeling that our local supermarket, which I work opposite, may not be up to the task.
I gave them the benefit of my doubt, after all last week they reopened after moving things from one aisle to another and giving the staff new fleeces undergoing a huge revamp which was launched with a massive strawberry frightening small children out of their wits and making them cry wandering round tapping people on the shoulder and giving out fridge magnets and free bananas.
I perused the shelves and couldn’t find any guacamole. Finding a supermarket employee I approached her.
“Do you have any guacamole?” said I
“Gwakkawot?” said she with a look of confusion
“A Mexican dip made from avocados. If you don’t stock it we could make our own with avocados” said I
“Avvawot?” Said she
I decided that maybe the village wasn’t ready to embrace Mexican dips and gave up.
Two days later, husband sent me an email at work asking for fresh mint and thyme for some meatballs. Again, no joy. The nearest thing to mint was a Polo. At this rate the husband is going to have to tone down his menu choices.
Last month one of my colleagues bought some apples from the same supermarket. Biting into one he announced that his apple tasted of … cheese. Some others tried apples out of the same bag.
Yes, cheese was the general consensus.
If I could get them to make the apples taste of avocado I could make my own gwakkawot.
