Friday, November 2, 2018

Let the Nausea Begin!


I almost wanted to classify this as an Observed Absurdity™ , but maybe I'm the only one who was aghast and appalled at what I saw in a convenience store dining area in northern Indiana. (Maybe I'M the absurdity this time.)

I had driven my mother, SweaterGal, to her weekly hair appointment at Maybelle's Dip-N-Clip. I needed to kill an hour, so I went to the nearest convenience store/gas station/tobacco emporium, bought a bottle of apple juice and a couple doughnuts, and sat down to peruse the local paper.

When I got up to throw away my napkin and head out to my car, I saw the following two condiment dispensers:



Being a lover of french fries, I absolutely understand the need for a large jug-o-ketchup, but the existence of a similarly huge tanker of ranch dressing caught me off-guard.

And made me nauseous.

For some reason, all I could imagine was someone filling a soup bowl with that white goop and baptizing chicken nuggets for hours on end.

Which made me nauseous.

I can appreciate a modicum of ranch dressing to enhance the experience of a salad or baked potato or (shudder) raw broccoli, but seeing So Much Dressing in one place  -  poised to be pumped out onto any unsuspecting food item nearby  -  I had to hightail it to the marginally-sanitary men's room and give back my doughnuts and apple juice in a most inauspicious manner.

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