Just when you thought it was safe to read my column again, I’ve done what should very rarely be attempted in the movies—but is done all the time, especially in the summer–the dreaded sequel.
(If you don’t know what I’m talking about, let me help. A year and a half ago, I wrote a column about things that only happen in the movies. This is the sequel. There, now you’re caught up.)
But don’t fear; I don’t expect this to turn into a George Lucas-like scenario with many sequels and prequels over a span of 30 years.
Unless of course, I could get merchandising rights for action figures and t-shirts and lunchboxes and fast-food toys…
Well, a girl can dream, can’t she?
Why is it whenever anyone has groceries in the movies, they are always in a sturdy brown bag with the perfect loaf of French bread or a bunch of carrots with the green stuff still on them protruding from the top of the bag? Must these things be sticking out of the top to make sure that we know they’re carrying groceries and not a bag of hemorrhoid cream or jock itch products?
I don’t know where these people shop, but at my local grocery store when you shop, cashiers put your things in plastic bags. If you’re buying produce (and I’ve never in my life gotten carrots with the green still on. If I saw that, I’d probably think it was old and sprouting something gross.), you put it in a plastic bag, wrap a twisty around it, and put it in your cart, which eventually gets transferred into an environmentally unsound blue plastic bag.
Or your environmentally sound bag that you brought and actually didn’t leave in the trunk of your car.
But evidently in movie grocery stores, you just place all your items in a sack. Like the French bread, which is never completely covered by a white paper holder like it is in my grocery store. I mean, I wouldn’t want the bread exposed to the world—not with all the bugs and icky stuff that could latch onto it while you walk jauntily up the street.
Wait, I forgot. There are no bugs in the movies.
Unless of course it’s a movie about killer bees or monster spiders, and in that case, they don’t care about your French bread anyway. They either want to sting you to death or eat your brains.
Getting back to the bread, though—with it hanging out of the bag like that, how do the carriers not drop it? One weekend, my husband—who always thinks that he has 72 arms when he comes home from the grocery store and can bring everything into the house in only one trip—was coming up our front walk. He tripped, and the baguette in the grocery bag shot out like a missile and landed in our garden.
Guess he wasn’t sashaying jauntily enough to keep it in.
Worst case, if people ever do drop their groceries in the movies, one of two things always happens—either eggs fall out and get smashed all over the ground or the bag falls and a couple of the best looking oranges you’ve ever seen in your life gently roll across the sidewalk. If it’s a love story, they will stop at the foot of Brad Pitt, who will then pick them up and hand them to the woman who just dropped them. If it’s a murder mystery, they’ll land at the foot of the stalker, which will cause the former orange carrier to scream, drop the remaining groceries (usually breaking some eggs), and run down the street.
I have to admit that if it were possible for me to drop my groceries and have my oranges roll up to Brad Pitt’s feet, well, I’d probably be coming out of the store and throwing them right onto the ground.
But let’s face it—if I did actually drop my groceries, the plastic bag holding my oranges would probably shoot out and rip open, depositing said oranges into my garden or they’d all splat onto the sidewalk.
Hmmm…seems I’m at the end of the column, and all I’ve talked about is groceries in the movies. But I still have lots of ideas. Guess that means there will be another sequel in our futures.
Now I know how George Lucas feels…
Michele Wojciechowski, when she’s not wishing Brad Pitt would pick up her dropped groceries (or mow her lawn or clean the pool she doesn’t have), writes “Wojo’s World® from Baltimore.