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Tag Archives: Shopping

Years ago I placed drywalling on the back
burner only doing it on a part-time basis.  I
decided to buy a little grocery store in the
town of Bailey and see how things shook out.

The Bailey Country Store was a lot of fun and
work, but well worth the twenty years I spent
there.  It was the one place on main street
where everyone gathered to chat, flirt, this
is how I met my wife,
and once in a while get
free snacks.

I learned quickly that if I wanted to sell things,
I had to have product to sell.   It was very
important for me to ask the local customers
what they wanted.  Before long I carried a little
bit of everything, from a great selection of food
and household items, to electronics, hardware,
makeup and pantyhose, vitamins and over the
counter medicinal items, kitchen utensils, rolled
up feather beds, towels, Kamasutra oils, movies,
and gift items.  You name it, I would carry it
right down to the old building’s ghosts.

I love to cook and cooking requires a full array
of spices.  Not everyone likes the spices I do, so
as they neared their expiration date I would pull
them and replace them with new ones.  I soon
had a vast collection of unsaleable spices.  This
required fast thinking to keep from losing money
on them.  I came up with my own version of the
Santa Maria seasoning for beef, and a kick butt
hot Cajun seasoning blend for chicken.

I utilized my butcher shop and pre-seasoned tri-
tip roasts, wrapped them snugly at put them in
the case.  I did the same with my Cajun recipe on
wings.  The food was selling so fast I could hardly
keep up, and it was not just the meat.  People had
to buy everything they needed for the full meal.
Before I knew what hit me, I was up to my blood
shot eyeballs in alligators. 

People started coming from all over to buy meat
from my butcher shop.  Whenever someone 
asked how to cook the roasts my line was, “Just
roll it around on the grill for six to eight beers,
about forty-five minutes.  A few less beers if you
like beef really rare,” 

I hung in there for a few (twenty) years of twenty
four, seven work.  I was very proud of that place
and, as you can imagine, my recipes.  People
came and went, nothing took place in
Park County without word of it arriving
at the good old BCS first.  Life was a constant
gathering of dear friends.

I do miss the Bailey Country Store and all of the
people who stopped in.  There is a huge lonely
spot in this old drywaller’s heart.  Yet, I still run
across customers from back then and we’ll shoot
the breeze just like old times.  They always scold
me for having sold the business, because good
meat and customer care are so hard to come by
these days.  It was an honor for me to serve Park
County, and residents of Bailey, Colorado and all
those who traveled from everywhere to buy my
Santa Maria tri-tips and Cajun style wings.

By the way, this really does make my wife “The
Butcher’s Wife.”
  That is what she gets for
watching that movie so many times.  Just
don’t tell her I said it’s fine to call her that,
and you can.

Copyright 2011, by Glenn Raymond.

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Yes, it really is me (back in the day).

 

Thanksgiving has come and gone again and I just
realized I have some “need to know” information
for all of my fellow “anti-shop with the ladies”
men out there.  This is a true story and I never
have to shop with my wife again, because of it.

My wife loves to shop, so her gift has always
been to take her shopping.  Now guys, this is
not a good idea.  Such a gift will take years
from your life, trust me.

My lovely wife was dragging me around the
mall by the pocketbook (nose).  At the end
of $200.00 she suddenly remembered she
had to have a couple of good fitting bras.  I
had no clue what exactly I was in for when
she dragged me by the hair, kicking and
screaming into Victoria’s Secret.

I blushed at first, but then I gladly noticed
several other unlucky, red faced men
mulling around as well.  Actually, looking
back on it, a few of them seemed a tad too
happy about it.  They had most certainly
been brainwashed to appear happy at all
times by their significant others.

To my horror this place had undergarments
practically tied in knots, piled and heaped in
handy, pre-sized bins.  My wife began pilfering
the merchandise and for a few moments I
actually entertained the possibility that she just
might fall in head first and never come out again.
All of the male natives had the look of certain
uprising in their eyes.  I began plotting my
fast and safe escape route.

Thirty-five minutes in my wife holds up six sling
shots (bras) and announces to every man in the
store that she is going to try them on.  She
demanded that I stay firmly planted right where
I was.

I waited.  Panic was crawling and writhing about
in the pit of my gut and a few guys looked as
though they were either going to toss their
cookies or pass out.  Either way it was not going
to be pretty.  I waited.

After what was certainly ten years of my life, the
dressing room finally regurgitated my wife.  She
happily handed me one bra and tossed the rest
back into a bin.  I was so happy.

“We can go now?”

“Not on your life.  I’ve only found one.”

The ritual began again, and men let me tell you
it is not at all like the catalogs.  I never got to
see one of those gorgeous models.  Five bra’s
later my wife disappeared into the changing
room again.  My peaceful waiting had ended
though.

She must have heard me laughing, because she
tried those things on in a flat minute.  It had to
be some kind of bra hooking speed record.  It
was a complete shame the Guinness  people
were not on site.  She may have made me
famous that night if they had been.

I relished the horror in her eyes when she
emerged from the dressing room and caught me
parading her black bra around the store perched
perfectly around the crown of my cowboy hat.

I had never, and probably never will again,
experience that blushing,  “momma takes scalps”
look of complete and utter “giving birth” facial
expression again.

Without further hesitation I announced just
how fine it would be if stores like this one would
kindly install a bar and big screen television, so
we men could lounge around with dignity while
we were held hostage to wait for so long.  Every
man laughed and agreed with me.  I was glowing.

Clearly horrified, my wife rushed forth removing
my (her) elastic and lace hat band.  She was
clearly muttering vehement expletives in my
general direction.  With two bras in hand she was
escorted to the front of a very long line of angry
women.  I had performed much better than
planned.  The women who worked there loved
me so much they let us go first.

“I am SO so sorry.”  My dear wife looked quite ill
as we approached the register.

“Oh, no honey.”  The clerk replied.  “We’re sorry.”
She looked me over sideways.  “We are very
sorry for your misfortune.”

I think they charged me double, but it was worth
it.  The sound of clapping and cheering from the
other men rang out behind us. 

I have not had to go shopping with my wife
since.  So take it from me you guys, a few well
thought out, quick-witted tricks and your time
is just that, yours.  Enjoy.

Copyright 2010, by Glenn Raymond.
Photograph of Glenn Raymond, Copyright 2010,
by Glenn Raymond.  All Rights Reserved.