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I went to the grocery store tonight. And as I was getting close to the checkout stand (but still looking at other stuff), I heard this odd noise.
It can't be, I thought. But it sounded like, it sounded like one of those fake chickens from the 25-cent toy machines that were everywhere when I was little. You put your money in, the chicken "clucked", and the plastic egg with your toy dropped down. I haven't seen one of those in a while (oh, they keep the toys and containers, but the chickens seem to have left - probably just as well, they were annoying).
It wasn't. It was the circular conveyer at one register, which squeaked badly whenever it moved. But it sounded so very like my memories.
Strange, what associations we form.
It can't be, I thought. But it sounded like, it sounded like one of those fake chickens from the 25-cent toy machines that were everywhere when I was little. You put your money in, the chicken "clucked", and the plastic egg with your toy dropped down. I haven't seen one of those in a while (oh, they keep the toys and containers, but the chickens seem to have left - probably just as well, they were annoying).
It wasn't. It was the circular conveyer at one register, which squeaked badly whenever it moved. But it sounded so very like my memories.
Strange, what associations we form.
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And I cannot fathom why; today, the same machine would (absent a few moments pleasant nostalgia) probably soon begin to irritate the HELL out of me. ;)
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Now, of course, the genes you inherited from me push you toward the other end of the bell curve where you want to scream after 3 repititions.
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