First of all, I would like everyone to know it is an absolutely gorgeous day here in Austin.

With that being said, I did what every red-blooded American apparently does on a gorgeous Sunday: go grocery shopping.

I don't think I've raved on and on about how wonderful the new HEB by my new apartment is, but just know this: it's fantastic. Those of you who are familiar with HEB's will note that this HEB is not solely an HEB. It is also part Central Market -- it has a huge organic/gluten free/ethnic foods section and it also has the Central Market pre-prepared foods area. Which is amazing! The best part is that I can still buy regular toilet paper (which you cannot do at Central Market).

Today I went through the checkout line and as I went to start tossing my goods in their respective bags, the HEB Buddy walked up. The HEB Buddy is the big paper-bag shaped mascot that HEB pulls out on big weekends for the kids. For some reason, the Buddy decided to start bagging my groceries.

I immediately started to laugh and said "A giant paper bag is bagging my groceries. Must get a picture of this for my blog." So I pulled out my camera and snapped a shot.

This is one of those things that I presume only happens in Texas and, more specifically, only happens to me. So the Buddy spent about twenty minutes trying to get the paper towels into a bag (which, ironically, I took back out of the bag, because who puts a thing of paper towels in a bag?). Finally, I hear the voice from inside the giant mascot say "Hey! I'm in your German class."

I have a bad tendency of thinking people are talking to other people when they are actually talking to me, but this time I knew for a fact that I was not the person Buddy was referring to. Sure enough, I hear the woman in line behind me say to her 13 year old daughter, "Did you hear her? She's in your German class, honey!"

The 13 year old stared back frostily, as only a frosty thirteen year old from your high school language class could do. This created an awkward moment, during which I decided to be a smart ass to this thirteen year old girl who probably would have intimidated me if I was thirteen and in her German class. "Don't you recognize her?" I asked, chuckling to myself at my on-the-spot wit (which I don't often get to use on frosty thirteen year olds). Then, I tossed the remaining bags into my basket and started to hightail it for the door. Tis best not to press your luck with pre-teens.

"Do you need help out with that?" The Buddy suddenly said, standing in front of my basket so I couldn't maneuver around.

"Um...no, I got it." It's not like I had a lot. A single girl buying two boxes of cereal, a three-pack of paper towels, some cat food and a loaf of bread is not exactly the person who needs help getting their goods to the car.

"That's always been her dream," the girl at the counter suddenly piped up. "She's always wanted to do a carry out, but no one's ever taken her up on the offer."

I wonder why. I pushed my cart hurriedly out the door, while humming Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" for effect.