Last week I'm grocery shopping and I hit the condiments/salad dressing aisle (3, for the record) and there's this youngish guy, couldn't have been more than 21 (although I suck at these things) standing at the end of the aisle looking at all the bottled sauces. He's got two bottles of the A-1 in his hands. He sees me, and turns to me and asks, "This is barbecue sauce, right?"
I pause - both for the strangeness of someone approaching me in the supermarket and for the obvious fact that this man does NOT have barbecue sauce in his hands - and then I look to make sure I'm seeing what I'm seeing.
"No, that's steak sauce," I tell him.
"Well, what's the barbecue sauce?"
I point to the lower section of the shelves.
"I'm looking for a terikayi-style barbecue sauce."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I guess there's some down there."
So he looks down there, then he looks up and grabs one of these:
"Is this it?"
I'm stunned. "No, that's a marinade," I say as I grab a bottle of the one of my choice (Caribbean Jerk. Tremendous with chicken) and start to edge away, not wanting to have that conversation. He puts it back and I leave him there and continue on my way.
Okay. So he didn't know the difference between steak sauce, barbecue sauce, and marinades. You should lose your man card for that, right?
Epilogue: I was going to post this yesterday but the power got KTFO'd by a big storm we had overnight.
These rule. (Mine's red.)
