Raisins

    It was an average day at Wal*Mart (I know, Ken, I know, lol!). My mother and I were grocery shopping. Of course, I wasn't exactly there on my own free will. True, I had volunteered to go grocery shopping with her, but I wasn't told it was a Wal*Mart excursion until we were in the car and out the driveway. By then...it was too late. The Wal*Mart/Raisins conspiracy was in effect.

     So, we gathered most of the items on our shopping list. The cereal, the chicken cutlets, cucumbers, celery, and soda water, just to name a few. After about an hour, we'd captured most of our assigned items. But then, we realized something; we were missing Raisins. Of course, they were nowhere to be found. Raisins are tricky things, you know. They know if you're after them, and they do everything in their power to avoid you.

     We started searching, and after about 15 minutes, had gotten nowhere. My mother was almost losing faith. I was tempted to ask an employee to direct me to their Raisin department, but alas, my mother disagreed. She insisted on us being self-sufficient. Besides, the employees could have very well been in league with the Raisisns. You can never be too careful.

    We explored aisle after aisle after aisle. Restless, frustrated, and declining in morale, we trekked down the endless rows of boxes and cans. Eventually, we split up to cover more ground. A risky move, true. The Raisins do tend to have an easier time attacking solitary people than parties of two or more. Still, we were desperate. I took the aisle on the left, she took the one on the right.

     I ventured down the over-lit corridoor. The flourescent lights blinded my tired eyes. I could hear the Raisins whispering and laughing quietly. They weren't far away. I'd always had a sixth sense about Raisins. The urge to defeat them was in my blood. Walking slowly up and down, inspecting each shelf, I finished that aisle and decided to find another one to search.

     "Canned Fruit" read one of the signs indicating what the aisle was to entail. I nodded to myself, and forced myself to keep moving. This is where they must be hiding. I'd tried to convince my mother of that before, but she had doubted my judgement. Now it was just steps away from entering the ralm of the Raisins. I could definitely hear them. Their giggles and snickers rang through the deafeningly quiet passage. I was alone there. No other shopper on a quest for canned peaches or pineapple. If I let my guard down, nobody would be there to help me if attacked. I could sense the Raisins plotting my death. I continued anyway. This had to be done.

     I meandered down the aisle, trying to look casual. They knew I was coming for them, but they weren't sure when. Suddenly, I spotted them. Barely 7 feet into their domain, they stood unprotected on the shelf. 'Stupids,' I thought, but then it occured to me that it might be a trap. I couldn't face this alone. "RAISINS!" I shouted. My trusty partner and mother came charging down the aisle, shopping cart ready to have them locked up in. I grabbed a box of the fools, and shoved them into the cart. My mother grinned and hugged me. We could finally leave.

     We were checked out, my mother paid, and we made our way through the parking lot to the car. Loading the bags into the back, we kept a sharp watch on the Raisins. Even though they were our captives, they were still sneaky and untrustworthy. I shuddered and motioned to my mother as I peeked into the last bag left in the cart. She looked in and grimaced at the gruesome site. The raisins and onions had been packed into the same blue smiley-face adorned plastic bag. I quickly snatched the onions out of it, and placed them securely in the trunk, only to find a tear in the netting encasing them, from which a lone onion had slipped. The poor thing was partially peeled and sat alone in the bag, directly next to the Raisins. I cuddled it and put it back with its own kind for comfort. Then I put the Raisins in their own bag, separated from the innocent groceries.Sliding into the passenger seat, I turned the radio on. I knew this was the only way to lull the Raisins into a false sense of security. For some reason they are entranced by 80's music.

     As soon as we arrived home, I stashed the raisins in a cabinet, shutting it securely. Until they're used in one of my mother's recipes, they are to be guarded. That's my job. Even now, I have my computer downstairs in the kitchen, playing The Bangles, just to keep the Raisins in their cabinet. I feel proud of my job, though. It's the only way to ensure that the Raisin Conspiracy will never rise to power again.

                                                          The End.

P.S. I am not insane. Raisins are a reality we must face. Please, take care when dealing with these dangerous beings.