A Shop, and then A Drop

Guess what yesterday was? Need a hint?

You guessed it - it was my debut as a web actress. (And just why does that sound, um, inappropriate?) So there's me. In my favorite produce market, the 320 Store. Waiting for my big debut as a stilted, inarticulate, robotic-sounding actress. They told me to be stilted, inarticulate, and robotic-sounding, actually. Something about "keepin' it real." I think they sensed that I would be way too adept as an actress and they wanted the videocast to show someone normal, someone real, someone others could relate to. So I did my best to quell my inner diva and tried to sound nervous and uncouth and very, very plain.

And that's all just to say, "Egads - put a camera in front of my face and I lose feeling in the upper half of my body." And for those who need more detail, that includes not only my lips, but the nerve endings in my face, as well as the neural pathways that connect my brain to my mouth. Apparently, you need those neural pathways connecting your brain to your mouth to speak in complete, understandable sentences. Who knew?And that's all just to say that while I waited for my turn at getting interviewed, and while my husband and kids (whom I'd forbidden from coming into the store, mind you) were creeping around shelves and boxes to snap pictures of me getting my picture taken, I mostly looked and felt like this:And that's all just to say the only coherent thought running through my panic-addled brain at the time was, "ohmygosh whyamIdoingthis Imustbehigh whodoIthinkIam excusemesirbutcanIseeitfirst IthinkIjustwetmyselfalittle."I was pleased to see that, as evidenced by this freakishly up-close close-up, that while my non-existent colorist missed a few gray spots, my non-existent make-up artist actually did a fine job of covering up the mountain range of zits that had emerged across my chin the day before. But then, because my glory is always notoriously short-lived, Brady gushed, "His camera is HD! COOL!" And then I told my friend that Brady had gushed, "His camera is HD! COOL!" And then my friend said, "Oh, you mean the one that makes actresses freak out and get their faces carved off weekly and eat only raisin-halves for days at a time because it shows every little thing? That HD?" And then I said, "Wh... wh... whu?!?" And then I cried a little bit.

My family thought it was hilarious to stalk me throughout the store as I did my nonchalant robotic acting shopping. So it went a little something like this: The camera man (who, this being his first-ever video gig, was as nervous as me) would ask me to start at point A and walk with my cart to point B, with A being the apple section, for example, and B being the orange section. So I, with my acting finesse, would do that. And it was hard, people, an extremely challenging assignment. And when I'd get around the corner from point A to point B, I'd find something like this peering at me, from behind a crate of red leaf lettuce:


And then I'd go from stoic, composed, spot-on stilted, inarticulate, and robotic to giggling, distracted, and confused. I can hear the editor now - "Why did she keep laughing at nothing?!?"

Perhaps they should have video-taped Rob, who was actually shopping. Rob probably just ambled from aisle to aisle, squeezing avocados and thumping melons, blissfully blase without an HD camera honing in on his every zit move.

I mean, look at him! These are the perfect shopping shots! Take him, kind sir, please-oh-please I-beg-of-you, take him.

Here's Rob shopping in the nut aisle. Incidentally, that's also where Jonathan could be found - waiting in the wings to make this face at me:as they tried to get a shot of my hands while I placed roasted almonds into my cart:

By the time I got home, not only did I have to change my shirt because I've yet to find an armpit diaper vendor, but I emptied my box of produce with all the child-like awe and wonder of a kid at Christmas. Why? Because I honestly had no clue what I'd purchased.

I think I got so into character was so glazed over with fear, I just operated on auto-pilot, doing exactly what the rookie camera man told me to do. It wasn't until I got home that I realized I'd purchased organic brown sugar at $3.99 a pound, an item I neither need nor knew they stocked. What compelled to me to grab that item for my basket rather than one of the other 152 products I actually need, I don't know. I also bought only four apples instead of our usual 8-10, pecans that I don't really like, and I forgot to get another 17 items that were on my list. When I get that nervous I feel a bit out-of-body.

Apparently I was a bit out-of-shopping-sense too.

I'm going to crawl into the fetal position now and wait for the site's debut in a few weeks. Please send chocolate.

Organic chocolate, of course.