Last week as I headed out the door to work on a few mysteries without any clues, The Wife asked if I’d pick up some spinach and bananas. With my mission clear in my mind (i.e. before I forgot what I was supposed to get), I drove straight to the grocery store.

Upon pulling into the grocery store parking lot I witnessed a guy in his early 20s park a truck midway between two parking spots, thus taking up both spots. Ray Charles could’ve done a better job parking. An older guy in his 70s pointed it out to the youngster, but the youngster paid him no mind and proceeded to walk to a different store outside of the grocery store parking lot. 

“Pure sorriness,” the old guy said as we exchanged exasperated looks. 

I walked into the grocery store with blinders on. The encounter with the cement head in the parking lot pushed me past my daily quota for human interaction. Anything in my immediate space that wasn’t a banana or tub of spinach didn’t exist. I sort of heard a gunshot, maybe caught a stabbing in my peripheral vision, but again, I’m just trying to make it to the bananas without going bananas.

Just as I reached down to try and find a bunch of bananas that weren’t as green as okra, I noticed a woman pushing a stroller with two dogs in it. Two live dogs, each wearing a personalized sweater. A man, presumably the woman’s husband, was wearing a sweater that matched the woman’s sweater, as well as those worn by the dogs. 

These were not service dogs, nor were they law enforcement dogs chasing a wanted suspect through the produce department. These were two hairy poodles dressed to the nines being pushed around the produce section of a grocery store. 

For a brief moment, I tried to process why anyone would need to bring two poodles into an establishment where people purchase items that they are going to ingest. I don’t care how clean your dog is, it’s still a dog. Dogs have no business being in a grocery store or restaurant unless they fit in a bun.

As I picked up my bananas, one of the dogs in the stroller – which was now within an inch of the banana display – began to give itself a bath with forensic precision. Every nook, every cranny – this dog was apparently getting ready for the prom. NASA’s pre-launch checks aren’t as detailed as the bath this dog gave itself.

If this Studio54 backroom reenactment by the dog wasn’t enough, it then stood up in the stroller and started sniffing the bananas.

“Ma’am, your dog is touching the produce,” I said.

“Oh, she just likes the smell,” the dog owner said with a Stepford-esque smile. 
I looked at her husband for signs of life, but in return he gave the look of a P.O.W. who didn’t have the will to live, much less blink anything to me in code. 

Quickly, I gathered my spinach and headed to the cashier while the other poodle began molesting a nearby loaf of French bread.

A store manager handled my transaction as I refused to utilize the self-checkout option. 
“Do you realize there is a pack of dogs doing unspeakable things to the cucumbers as we speak?” I said to the manager. “It’s like Animal Planet After Dark back there!”

The manager had the same blank, defeated look as the husband of the marauding poodles. He rattled off some oft-recited nonsense about “emotional support animals”, the Geneva Convention, and a few verses of Al Stewart’s “Year of The Cat”.

To all you germophobes out there, no matter how many times you burn the skin off of your hands with that endless stream of hand sanitizer, just know that a poodle is probably lurking in your local grocery store, just waiting to start a family with a bag of oranges.

Jon Dawson’s books are available at http://www.JonDawson.com.

The Bryan Hanks Show airs on 960-AM in Kinston and 960TheBull.com daily at 7 a.m. & 3 p.m. It also airs on the 252ESPN.com stations in New Bern and Greenville (107.5-FM) at 6 p.m. The entire archive of shows can be found at www.BryanHanks.com.