Wednesday, April 14, 2010

A Heroic Tale About How I Defeated the Mexican Supermarket and Their Bigotry Against Hamburgers

I do all my primary shopping at a Mexican grocery store because shit is cheaper and I am poor. This wouldn’t be so bad if said supermercado carried all the normal things a grocery store should carry – but often it doesn’t.

However, what it lacks in cheese and produce selection, it
(usually) makes up for in ridiculousness. Such as chicken feet and beef tongue. And insane mariachi tunes that are cranked up so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Until today, when my beloved Mexican super store failed me in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible.


It didn’t have hamburger buns.

What the hell?! This is not possible. How can this damn store not have hamburger buns?

I began searching high and low. And, as if it could sense my desperation, the grocery store
resorted to trickery.

It became blatantly obvious that whoever ordered the bread products for the supermarket was a deranged worshipper of hot dogs. There were hot dog buns everywhere. Shelves and shelves of them. And whenever I thought I had finally found hamburger buns – alas – they were really
hot dog buns in different packaging than the previous hot dog buns.

Insanity, I tell you!

Now, it’s true, I could have changed meal plans. But I had come too far. My shopping cart was already filled to the hilt with hamburger ingredients.
I couldn’t give up now! Blonde Beyonce and I appealed to an employee, hoping he could help us track down the secret location of the hamburger buns.

The conversation went as follows:

Blonde Beyonce: Excuse me, where are the hamburger buns?

Employee: Ay, senorita! Esta en aisle tres! (or something like that. With much more English)

How had we not seen them? How silly of us! We rushed over to aisle three.


There were no fucking buns or bread of any kind in aisle three. But there was flour…

Blonde Beyonce figured out the puzzle quicker than I did. Duh, our Hispanic homeboy thought we wanted to
bake our own buns! Of course!

Well, I am not that awesome. Or that committed to my hamburger making. I was about to give up entirely when I spotted some pan de leche.
OH HELL YEAH. I’m making fucking mini burgers! And sticking them on some tiny sweet rolls! Problem solved.

Oh, sweet victory.

[That's a mighty tiny burger. But it's filled with awesome!]

that, Mexican supermarket bitches!


  1. This was my exact life when I lived in NYC. Well, in Brooklyn. In Bushwick. It was wildly sketchy and I was cheap and there were Hispanic grocery stores and we used to buy coconut milk in bulk even though no one in our apartment even *liked* coconut milk that much because it was like 2 cents and they never sold any regular shit for us to buy instead.

  2. All I want to know is, why the hell would anyone cook chicken feet? Is there even enough flesh on them to justify making them into a meal?!

  3. OMG the nails. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

  4. (p.s.) I actually have a blog through Typepad, but Blogger and Typepad are currently in a battle to the death so every time I try to sign in using my typepad account Blogger goes, NO SCREW YOU TYPEPAD and then I cry.

    Any chance us tyepepad fools could get some blogger love with the name/url feature?


  5. Hey Ashley - I just checked out your blog, and ohmygod, I love your header graphic! Hilarious.