Let's Keep it Real for a Minute

The stupid news had me so upset last night that I forgot to mention the Day's Big Event, you know, the one that you save up to tell your spouse/partner/friends/dog about over dinner (or, if you're married to my husband, when he gets home from work at 11pm).

So, yesterday, I had a hankering for some of those delicious fake-biscuits-from-a-can, found in your grocer's refrigerated aisle, you know, the kind you press on w/ a spoon till the roll pops open...mmmm... Anyway, I pressed-n-popped, and laid them carefully out on a lightly greased cookie sheet, and there were seven, which I noticed bc/ it made my two lines of biscuits uneven, and I had taken special care to space them out evenly.

Hmmm, I thought, that's odd; I consulted the can and found that sure enough, there should have been an even eight biscuits within. I doubled-checked to make sure that two of those tricky little suckers hadn't gotten stuck together as I pulled them apart, but no. I knew that I had been very careful to seperate them along the pre-sliced lines. My can was definitely short one biscuit.

So I did what any insane person with way too much time on her hands would do. I called Pillsbury. Shoot, the phone number was right there on the can.

Now I have to say, I really don't know what possessed me to call. I didn't much care about the missing biscuit (it actually was to my benefit, since if it was't there, I couldn't eat it, and lord knows I actually don't need an extra 160 calories of fat and super-refined carbs), but anyway, I called. I think I was mostly just idly curious to see what they would say. I got through the touch-tone menu and was connected with a customer-satisfaction-specialist (suprisingly quickly, I might say), and she asked in a deep Southern drawl (a perfect biscuit voice!) how she might help me. I explained (and I was very pleasant about it), "I bought some biscuits, and there was supposed to be eight, but my can only had seven." Then I burst out laughing, bc/ I heard myself through somebody else's ears, and I knew what I sounded like.

(At this point in the story, as I am recounting it to Dave, he says, "She must have thought you were some big fatso, being like "Ah neeeeeeed mah EIGHT biscuits!! Seven isn't enough!!" I fully concur w/ this assessment.)

Oh lord. I have way too much time on my hands. But, I am happy to report that I have a voucher for a replacement can-o-biscuits coming my way in six to eight weeks time, and I sure did get a good laugh out of it all. And lord knows I needed it, after watching the news and all...