The Fly and I

Patrick often teases me that I can't just walk into a drugstore, mall, or supermarket like normal people do, without something downright Garrison Keillor-ish occuring. "So what happened this time?" is his usual greeting when I return from a shopping excursion. It could be a run-in with a drunken celebrity; finding an envelope with over 200 bucks in it that no one can claim, which cop that happened to be in the same 7-11 at the time tells me to keep; or a chance encounter with someone I knew twenty years previously--on the other side of the continent.

Yesterday it was a fly in the hamburger.

On the rare occasions that I buy beef, it's the expensive, no hormones or antibiotics or anything that would get reported on Oprah kind. It's a treat, and one I was in the mood for. Having already gone to the local produce stand and bought all my veggies like a good girl, I naturally thought of a nice, juicy hamburger to go with them. It's been a year or two since I had one, and high time to indulge. Off to the local supermarket to procure my ingredients. I had just pulled some nice whole wheat rolls off the bakery shelf (how virtuous am I?) and headed back to the meat counter. Yes! "One pound of ground Angus, that'll be a bag of gold and your bicuspids, Ma'am." But oh, I wanted that burger, so I grabbed it.

Now, couldn't I just put my humble little package in my humble little cart and be done with it? Apparently not. Instead, I stood gazing at all the little jewel-colored packages waiting to go home with someone. And then I saw it--three pounds of choice USDA ground round, proudly displayed with a living, buzzing housefly trapped inside the plastic wrap and crawling all over the meat.

Naturally there were no employees in the vicinity to alert to the problem. Furthermore, I couldn't just leave it there or pretend I hadn't seen it. I was forced to carry the disgusting little parcel to the front of the store and wait for a manager. When she arrived, she was as grossed out as I and pitched the whole thing right into a wastebasket. She looked at my other groceries. "Are you purchasing those items?", she asked. At my affirmative, she answered, "Oh no, you're not!" and bagged them for me. Then she marched me over to the till and gave me the price of the fly-infested hamburger as well, with apologies so profuse I began feeling a little sorry for her...after all, it was a fly, not a rattlesnake. At any rate, I got free groceries out of the deal plus more money than I had before entering the store. (Too bad I hadn't done my whole week's shopping right then--but one can't have everything.)

And no, seeing the critter didn't take away my hankering for hamburger. If anything, I was even more grateful for the succulent feast on the whole wheat rolls, knowing it was a freebie. Pass the spicy mustard, please.