28 - Twenty dwarfs at the supermarket.

joneworlds@mailbox.org

I was back at the Save-Mor the other day for some groceries. And I go as early as I can, because I like getting that stuff out of the way of my day. So I'm pushing down the dairy-and-frozen-foods isle, and I kid you not, there are like 20 dwarfs crammed in there. They're all like huddled around the shelf where the cheese is, taking one down, passing it around, sort of murmuring to each other in their serious way. It's always like this with them - they have to do everything in big groups. I never saw a dwarf do anything by itself. And granted, a gang of them can strip down a whole car to parts in 5 minutes, but they're taking 15 minutes to pick out a piece of mozzarella. I just don't get it. And later it's the same thing with the canned fish, and the crackers, and the potatoes. And I feel like I'm just hustling around the place to get what I can before the dwarf conference blocks the way again. I've tried saying excuse me in the past, but I don't any more. Have you ever seen the look you get, times 20, when you interrupt a dwarf discussion? You'd think I had spat on them or something. Whatever, I'll just eat pickles instead. You never interrupt a dwarf.

Next - 29 - Some strange tracks in the field.

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